Do We Have A Deal?
by PrsctrTails
Summary: Dan has some problems with problematic people. He meets a "man" who has expert problem solving skills. GG/VD crossover. Set post Inside release. Rated T for stuff that will happen later. R&R.
1. It's so funny we met

There wasn't enough Gin and Vodka and Bourbon and Brandy or anything else in New York City to get him drunk enough to feel better. There probably wasn't enough alcohol in the State to make him forget the fact that Blair had left the literal Prince to run off with…_him_.

Good Lord, he had written her a whole book and she still didn't like him like that [or so she said]! Dan rubbed his temples in an effort to remove all thoughts and feelings from his mind. If that didn't work, he'd just move away and write a _real_ tell-all book. Hey, he'd been a punching bag for those people for how long? Maybe he was entitled to a little actual revenge.

Taking a pull off his Gin and Tonic, Dan sighed. Being an author was…. well, blah. Write-ups, blurbs and endless reviews about his amazing insight into the Upper West Side, they were just bothersome at this point. He never knew being a published writer meant no social life, or, well, even less of one than he had to begin with.

From his booth at the thankfully quiet and pleasantly upscale bar, he glared out at the Manhattan skyline. It was, per usual, glistening perfection.

"You look familiar." A male voice from behind pulled him from his gazing.

"…Huh?" Dan replied, suddenly going from brooding to his funnily clumsy self. He turned his head to see what a lesser writer than he would call 'tall, dark and handsome'. Said stranger was holding up the Society section from some tabloid, complete with a picture of Dan doing his best to fake a smirk. He sort of looked like he was having an aneurysm. "Let me guess…you want an autograph or an interview?"

"God, no." The stranger said

"Excuse me?" Dan shot back; somehow offended by a stranger not being impressed by a book he didn't want to ever be published.

"I don't read about whiny young people doing whiny young things."

"And yet, you know who I am," Dan casually retorted. "Fancy that."

"Touché," said the stranger. He was going to ask permission to sit, but didn't. He reasoned he didn't owe a twenty-something year old 'writer' any real respect. "I know you because you've been in here every night for four weeks. I'm genuinely tired of looking at you."

"Then drink somewhere else." Dan groused.

"Aw, but I was here first." Said the stranger.

"Then how come I've never seen you before?" Dan asked.

"Because, like all wanna-be writers, you're not very observant."

For a split-second, Dan wondered if Blair had under gone a sex change. Because, well, it appeared he was being insulted in the exact way he secretly longed for. Call it masochism, but Dan missed it. "Fair enough." Dan shrugged.

"Wow, you guys get your feelings hurt easy."

"Us guys?" Dan repeated.

"The people in your book. From the reviews I've read, you snitched on your friends and now they're all mad. Very unoriginal."

"You're telling me," The wayward Humphrey admitted. "I'm sorry, but what's your name. It's just you kind of remind me of someone I once knew."

Ah, this was the fun part. He had played with the mouse, but how far did he want to go? His life was reasonably dull, but maybe this charmingly half-witted scribe could provide some fun. If not, he could just wipe it all out later and walk away. "You, writer-boy, can call me Damon. Now, I may be wrong, but it looks like you've got some girl problems."


	2. Early Ideas

Damon had been partly joking when he used the phrase 'girl problems', but _damn_. Even without compelling him, Dan had opened up like Damon was his psychiatrist or something. He wanted desperately to make fun of this Dan Humphrey, but that almost seemed to be too easy. Or, and how could he be thinking this, too mean.

"Hey…umm, shut up," Damon eventually said. Dan looked at him with an almost snubbed facial expression. "Seriously, shut up."

"Did I say something to offend you?" Dan asked.

"No. You've just been talking for about an hour straight without taking a breath. Either your life really does suck that much or you have the greatest imagination ever." Damon pointed out, relishing the sound of his own voice.

"It sucks that much." Dan answered.

"Tell me why." Damon asked.

"I thought I just did." Dan said, looking a little perplexed.

Damon grinned as his eyes did that little trick he so loved. "Really tell me why."

"Because I'm alone. Again. Like always" Dan answered.

Damon was, for once, caught off-guard. He was expecting something much less…relatable. Out of pity, he released Dan from his control. He hated when humans made him feel bad. It was so depressing. This was awkward because it might lead to empathy. He knew that he should just wipe whatever memories had formed and walk away, but dammit, Humphrey was so sadly fascinating.

"So, the blonde bitch runs off on a new project every day, right?" Damon asked.

"Yes." Dan answered, not bothering to correct the slur against Serena.

"Did she really date an ex-con?"

"Yes," Dan nodded, eye twitching slightly. "Then she got mad at me because I was being, as she said, territorial."

"What a bitch." Damon laughed, taking a sip of his wine.

"Basically." Dan said.

"And the girl you now think you love, has dumped an actual Royal for the guy that seems to live to treat her like crap?" Damon asked, smirking. He did feel a little bad for Dan, but not enough to totally refrain from mocking him.

"Apparently." Was Dan's terse reply. Damon happily raised his eyebrows, enjoying Dan's grimace ever so slightly.

"Cheer up, Hemmingway. I'm sure one of them will come crawling back. Maybe."

"Why only maybe?" Dan asked.

"Because you, and the rest of your friends, appear to be whiney little bitches," Damon said, sounding both accurate and confident. Dan shot him a harsh glare. Damon could easily snap his neck, but this was way too much fun. "Relax. It wasn't an insult. Just more of an observation."

"Are you a bastard to all strangers you meet, or just me?" Dan asked.

"Mostly all, but you're a really easy target at the moment." Damon answered, figuring that would finally drive him away.

It didn't. This Dan Humphrey was tough.

"I guess I am." Dan said, nodding more to himself than anyone else.

"You need to write another book," Was Damon's advice.

"Why would I do that?"

"Get all the depression out of your system. That'd be good for you."

Dan blinked once or twice. "I don't even know your last name, and you're giving me literary advice."

"I'm just trying to be helpful. And it's Salvatore."

"…That's a remarkably book-friendly last name." Dan complimented.

"Thank you." Said Damon, humorously raising his eyebrows up and down for effect. He loved sincere compliments about how awesome his name was.

"What's your grand book idea?"

"Hmm," Damon pondered, batting at his own lengthy hair. "You need some serious stress relief. Take all those terribly bitchy characters that have driven you so very close to alcoholism, put them in one story, and kill them."

"Huh?" Was all Dan could muster.

"You heard me. Kill 'em all. In a book, that is." Damon explained, unleashing a smirk that was enough to instantly intrigue and freak Dan out.

"That's kind of juvenile." Dan meekly deflected

"So are they," Damon answered. "Well, from what you've told me." He knew how suspicious that had sounded.

"I guess," Dan nodded. "It just seems way too gore-porn for me."

"You've only written one book. Stop being so stuck up." Damon almost ordered. "It's not like you're going to be around them that much. You might as well give them a bloody sendoff."

"You think?"

"What do you have to lose?" Damon asked, his smirk dripping snark.

"How does one find inspiration for writing up the gruesome murders of a few people he once considered friends?" Dan asked.

"I'm sure something will come along that will get your creative juices flowing." Damon said, wanting for all the world to show Dan his fangs.


	3. Fleshing Out Some Details

The conversation had been going for several hours now, and Dan was finally feeling the tipsiness from all his Gin consumption. The idea of a gore fest horror novel was quickly becoming a better and funnier idea by the minute. Dan laughed a little to himself.

"What's so funny?" Damon asked.

"I guess I have to confess that your idea is pretty good."

"Of course it is."

Dan rolled his eyes. This guy was a Grade A asshole, but at least he treated him like Blair used to. That was disturbingly welcoming. Plus, if he mentally squinted hard enough, he kind of looked like Blair. "I sort of did something like it." Dan confessed.

"Oh? The bookworm wrote a story about murder. You're starting to impress me." Damon said.

"The ex-con that Serena threw me over the boat for…I have this great story about him being beheaded by a falling street sign."

"Twisted. I like it. Tell me about it." Damon inquired, trying to reason if this was a compel situation or not. Dan rolled his head back as leaned to one side to grab his painfully cliché satchel.

"Nice purse." Damon winked.

Dan rolled his eyes. "Shut up, it was a birthday gift."

"Uh-huh. Just don't let your Tampons fall out."

They both laughed at what both thought was a pretty good joke. Dan finally fished some stapled together pages from the satchel and slid them across the table. Damon plucked it up with carefully measured curiosity. His eyes moved carefully through the story, an eyebrow occasionally rising at what he thought was pleasantly gratuitous. "Wow. You really hate this Ben guy."

"Just a little." Dan said, holding up squished together fingers.

"Because he managed to steal your blonde?"

"That's one of the bigger reasons. Besides, ever since _Inside_, she's probably back to confiding in him about how mean I am for writing about all the stupid, stupid stuff she actually did." Dan said bitterly.

Well, that was a whole new side. Damon leaned back in his chair, to observe how silently angry Dan had become. This was a very amusing turn of events. He had been starting to think this writer was as almost devoid of emotions as he was. But now? Now it was a little amusing. Dan had been trying to walk the very thin line between love and hatred with his former friends.

"You want him gone." Damon eventually said.

"Gone?" Dan repeated, cocking his head to one side, trying to pretend he wasn't thinking what he was thinking.

"Just…out of the way. You did write a story about him losing his head courtesy of a stop sign. That might be a peek into your twisted writer brain."

"So what if I did?" Dan asked back. "It doesn't mean I want him dead."

"Couldn't it maybe force the blonde to take another look at you?" Damon retorted.

"Are you insane?"

"Probably, yeah." Damon nodded, wanting desperately to tell Dan exactly whom he was talking to.

"If I wanted anyone dead, which I don't, I wouldn't start the list with Ben Donovan." Dan sighed. This conversation was the spitting image of mentally unhealthy, but it at least feel good to talk about the dark things his mind would churn up at night.

"You're really not good at being angry, are you?" Damon asked. "Why not?"

"Honestly? Because my dad and all his musician and hippie friends fed me all that be nice to people crap. That's why my hair is so weird, it's trying to escape from all the bad advice my brain is suppressing"

"Ah," Damon said. Now that daddy issues were in play, he was starting to view Dan as maybe a person and not just an overly whiney potential meal. "Well, that puts us in the same boat." He said, raising his wine glass to Dan for a toast. Dan smirked a little as their glasses clinked together.

"Well, I'm amazingly close to being sloshed, and I think I have another book signing tomorrow. Then school, well, college, I mean NYU." Dan babbled slightly to Damon's amusement. He again went fishing through his satchel and emerged with an actual hardback book. From there a pen entered the picture and Dan was furiously scribbling on the blank page at the front of the book. He stood up as he slid it across the table. "Nice talking to you." Dan said, giving a pat on the shoulder. Damon nodded as he leaned over to inspect what was now in front of him.

"_Inside_ by Dan Humphrey." He read aloud. He flipped open to the page Dan had been writing on.

_Damon- Daddy issues suck. Girl problems suck more. Being able to talk about them doesn't. You'll know where I'll be tomorrow night- Dan._

That wasn't even the best part. The phone number on the bottom of the page was very much to Damon's liking.


	4. Upfront Details

Sunlight pushed its way around the drawn curtains. Damon grumbled against his pillow, feeling he hadn't slept enough. He was loathe admitting it, and would never do so publicly, but that Dan kid had gotten to him. He still filed the kid under the category of whiney, but not a meal. Maybe he was getting soft.

Rubbing sleep out of his eyes, he sat up in his bed. For the very long life of him he couldn't remember the last time he had spent the night with a mortal he didn't know and didn't eat them. He wasn't sure how to feel about that. What's more, all he had wound up with was an autographed book and a phone number. What was even weirder was the fact he had kept the book. Ah, he hated it when he occasionally acted human. Though, it would have been easier to blame the annoyingly sympathetic Dan Humphrey. On the plus, it had been a very long while since anyone was willing to go verbal toe-to-toe with him.

After a shower, followed by several glasses of Vodka, Damon plopped back down on the bed and flipped open the book. He was a little bit flattered that he had been able to obtain something for free without any compelling. He found the first page and began reading.

About halfway through, he was very thankful that he didn't grow up in the Upper East Side. He drank blood, and these kids kind of scared him. Though, Dan's undying devotion to Blair struck a chord within Damon. He was impressed that someone as young as Dan was capable of feelings that deep. He placed the book down beside him and glared up at the ceiling of his hotel suite. Underneath that weird mange of hair and the crooked grin, Damon saw a little of himself in the young author. Yes, Damon was mentally conceding that Dan could write.

He picked up his phone and fixed a stare as his fingers worked.

_To: Dan_

_You may whine, but you can write._

He placed the phone back on the nightstand and went back to his reading. The chapters went by easy, even though the subject matter wasn't. He was slightly in awe of how real people lived in fear of a website. He also quizzically noted how little these people actually communicated their problems to each other. He wondered how many of these 'scandals' could have been averted with basic communication skills. His phone chimed quickly.

_From: Dan_

_Thanks?_

Damon grinned as he replied.

_To: Dan_

_Yes, that was a compliment. Also, I can see why your friends hate you now. Good job. _

He returned to his reading and knocked out the remaining chapters in about two or so hours. Damon closed the book and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Huh. Dan's life really did suck. He normally relished in the suffering of others, but this hit _way_ too close to home. Damon moved to drink straight from the bottle. Even weirder, he actually wanted to talk to Dan again. He wasn't sure what quite a few of his feelings were. They resided somewhere between empathy and compassion, things he never felt for humans.

He sensed that this could be troublesome at some point.

"Dammit." Damon swore as he got up and plucked his phone up. He searched for wherever that book signing was supposed to be. He could barely live with himself; he was about to provide moral support. He felt like such a girl. He shrugged into some clothing, and departed for where his phone directed him.

The bookstore that Damon was winding to was already filling with tabloid writers and bloggers. From his very uncomfortable seat behind a table, Dan shuddered. He didn't think Tennessee Williams or Fitzgerald ever had to talk to people who lived in their attics and wrote for blogs. On a deeper level, he at least longed for a familiar face. But the seats supposedly reserved for his invitations sat empty. He wasn't surprised, just a little disappointed. Though he faked it well, he was still not very used to actually being constantly alone.

The signing, he had been told, would only entail a few questions. It turned into a press conference that resembled the ones poor Prince Charles had to go through when he split with Princess Diana. To his credit, he kept his chin up through all the questions about how it felt to take 'potshots' at the apparently unassailable members of the Upper East Side. It was the music they played, so all Dan could was dance to it.

However, he was still getting used to the fact that Blair was with Chuck. The feeling that gave him made his chest hair burn. He didn't mind Prince Louis, at least he was harmless, but Chuck? Good Lord. He often wondered if it was because he was so boring that Blair never paid him any romantic mind. Sure, he used to be her Labrador and shoulder to cry on for any and all of her problems; she just wanted actual love from an insane and probable sociopath who once thought it fine to swap her for real estate.

As his mind rolled these thoughts over and again, his mouth was busy answering questions. He didn't know what he was saying; he just knew it would be misquoted in tabloids across the city. Sadly, it was either pay attention to the reporters, or look at the empty chairs. Though, most of his actually family weren't even speaking to him, so he figured empty chairs would be sight he would have to get used to.

He turned his cheerless eyes back to the reporters, but quickly rolled them when he was asked why he felt the need to play up Chuck Bass's substance abuse problems. He could barely look at, let alone talk to, these people. For the sake of posterity he cast one last glance towards the reserved family section.

He hadn't remembered when Damon Salvatore was considered family, but there he was. Dan, incredulous, subtly mouthed the word "_Damon?_"

Cue the already familiar smirk and eyebrow raise. Dan quickly had to cover his mouth from laughing. Talk about seeing a light in the window at night.

After that, the questions, curiously enough, got back to his future literary plans. What specific genre of novel did he want to write next? Dan leaned back and slid his eyes over to Damon.

"Horror." He answered to the blogger. Damon winked as be brushed some hair away from his eyes.

Things wrapped up after that, and everyone filed out to rush back to their laptops to misquote and further vilify him in the Fourth Estate. Dan cast a friendly laugh towards the former stranger.

"So, I'm a good writer?" He asked of Damon.

"Absolutely," Damon nodded, rising from his chair to approach. The two shook hands and Dan noticed Damon's oddly strong grip. "And I can see why people didn't like it. You really didn't sugarcoat life around here."

"That would be lying." Dan casually shrugged. Damon rolled his eyes.

"Not artistic license?"

"Nope." Dan answered. "I hope you saved your signed copy. Once Blair gets Chuck to arrange to have me killed, it'll be a Collector's Item."

"Oh, I'm sure," Damon said, pulling up a chair. "So, you wrote her all that and she still turned you down?"

"More like shot me down." Dan almost groaned.

"That's rough."

"Yep," Dan nodded. "So, you free for lunch or something?"

"Yeah." Damon said.

"Kay," Dan said, standing up and gracefully sliding over the table to the other side.

"Thanks for validating my idea for a horror novel." Damon slyly added as the two walked to the door. Dan would have pointed out that he wrote the sign beheading before he had met Damon, but didn't see an overlying point.

"Oh, you're welcome," Dan laughed. "I hope you have some ideas for what constitutes gruesome."

"Tons." Was all Damon said.


	5. Source Material

As the two figures wandered through the hipster scene known as Brooklyn, Damon would occasionally laugh. "People don't dress like this in Virginia." He said, the slightest bit of an accent breaking through in his voice.

"Virginia?" Dan repeated. "The Country Club of the South."

"That's about right," Damon nodded. He watched as Dan fished a pack of expensive looking cigarettes out of his jeans. It seemed like Dan did his absolute best to live up to the stereotype of the tortured writer. Damon quickly snatched the pack from Dan and took one for himself. "Thanks. Got a light?"

Dan quickly produced a lighter and they were in business. For Damon it was an odd gesture. Cancer had no dominion over him, but for Dan it was different. He was mortal, thus nicotine was pretty bad for him. Damon almost wanted to sound like an anti-smoking ad and tell Dan to quit smoking, but reasoned that Dan deserved some form of relaxation, no matter how carcinogenic.

"So, along with your friends, you took the literary hatchet to your own father?" Damon asked.

"Yep," Dan said, nodding slightly. Honestly, he still couldn't remember ever writing that part, but he apparently had. "How bad did it look on paper?"

"Pretty ugly," Damon chuckled. "Though, I almost admire you for actually saying what you feel. Almost."

"Why only almost?" Dan asked, lighting another cigarette.

Damon couldn't believe he was about to say this. "It was a little…mean-spirited. I'm guessing you were in a bad mood when you wrote it."

Dan shrugged. "Who knows what I was thinking. I wasn't exactly in a balanced mental state."

"Yeah, that showed," Damon said. "And where or when are we eating?"

"Down there," Dan pointed to an Italian place that looked like it belonged in a Scorsese movie from the 80s.

"…Goody." Damon said, humorously listless. He had images of angry Italian couples screaming at each other.

"Oh, come on. Is your Southern Sensibility offended?" Dan laughed.

"Never you mind about that." Damon reassured. He nudged Dan's shoulder to get his attention. Once gotten, he turned on his eyes. "There's this great French place by my hotel. Let's go there."

"Okay." Dan quickly said. Damon knew he couldn't properly enjoy a lunch with the famed author if he spent the whole time worrying about how dirty the floor was. As soon as they were in a cab and headed to Manhattan, Damon released him. Despite the expansive vocabulary, Dan was oddly easy to compel. Damon reasoned this either spoke to his own vast powers, or Dan's inherent loneliness.

Halfway through lunch, and a pleasantly stimulating conversation about the similarities between New York City and the more urbane parts of the South, Dan's phone buzzed. He glanced at it.

"By all means, see what tabloid is following you now." Damon said, not actually looking up from his wine.

Dan looked down at the phone. He blinked once to try and keep his eyes from going wide. He swallowed hard.

"Umm, I'll let you read this." Dan said, sliding his phone over to Damon. The Southerner raised his eyebrow as he picked up the phone and cleared his throat.

"Gossip Girl here," Damon began, finding himself feeling way below immature. "It looks like our least favorite writer has a new friend. I'm putting out an APB on this new face. Any and all info welcome. Just to help, here's a pic." Damon looked at the pic and quickly noted it was the two of them at the book signing, less than thirty minutes ago. He placed the phone back on the table and looked at Dan. Normally, this would have been an edible offense, but he felt hesitant. "I can see why you still live in fear of her."

"Yeah," Dan nodded, looking away and scratching the back of his head. "She kind of hates me. Really hates me."

"Gee? Why?" Damon chuckled as he poured himself another glass of wine, his third of the meal. "Explain an APB, Dan."

"All Points Bulletin," Dan sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Soon everyone around our age will be tripping over themselves to find out who you are."

Our age, Damon thought, laughing silently. He'd let that slide for the moment. Dan didn't know any better. "Relax," Damon said, giving a dismissive role of his eyes. "I'm not what you would call easily researched."

Dan nodded. Though he knew nothing of Damon beyond the previous 34 hours, he had the vibe of well to do Southern Gentry. He was probablyheir to a tobacco or cotton fortune. He didn't really care. He was gracious and didn't care about _Inside_. In fact, he was the first person to read it who was still speaking to him. He'd take a victory wherever he could get it. "I can give you the names and pictures of some people to watch out for. If that'll help."

Damon, quite literally, felt his ears perk up. "What kind of people?"

"You read my book," Dan almost laughed. "Blair's minions. If I know Waldorf, and I really do, she's sending a herd of them this way."

"A… herd?" Damon repeated, using a sizable amount of his own willpower to avoid licking his lips.

"Yeah," Dan said, pulling up a picture on his phone. "Avoid these girls and your stay in New York City will be much more pleasurable."

"I'll work on that." Damon said, studying the picture. He had been running low on blood packs, and, well… the people in this city were really annoying. That, and Dan needed inspiration for his next book. "I have a meeting with another friend here in the city, so I need to go change. I'll text you later. We'll do something tomorrow. Sound good?"

"Yeah, sure." Dan smiled, receiving the now trademark eyebrow raise. Dan left shortly after, pretty sure Damon had paid. He was about to walk out when he noticed what appeared to be a Student ID. He snatched it from the ground. "Damon Salvatore… University of Virginia." Well, that wasn't really a surprise. UVA was a haven for smart yet oddly maladjusted rich kids. He then realized he had absolutely no way to find Damon, who appeared to have a real knack for moving quickly.

Halfway through his carbide back to Brooklyn, Dan realized that, at the moment, the only person Gossip Girl wanted to hunt more than him was Damon. Sure enough, with two or three clicks, it was revealed to him that Damon was at the Essex House Hotel. Thank God it wasn't The Empire. Dan shrugged and deduced he would return the ID later. For the moment, he was happy to sit and wonder what Damon's college major was.

* * *

><p>The sun had set on Manhattan, and Dan was back in a cab. He hadn't really done much except pen a short story about the misadventures of a rich, twenty something Virginian. He was a sap for easy material.<p>

Finally arriving, Dan used what was left of the Humphrey charm to ascertain Damon's room number. The elevator ride was full of him trying to formulate lines that didn't make him sound like a stalker. He decided on the perfectly innocent, 'this looked important'.

Working hard to navigate the crisscrossing hallways, Dan finally located the oddly isolated Presidential Suite. Before he could knock, he noticed the door was ajar. Maybe Damon was the only one on the floor and felt no need to be, well, safe.

Dan pushed the door forward, entering slowly. "Damon? It's me, Dan."

No real response aside from an echo. Though, the smell of something hit his nose. It smelled almost metallic. It was even weirder because it had a taste t-

_Holy Shit_

Dan thought years of UES parties were terrible and gory. Turns out an actual body was worse. Much, much worse. Rather than scream, he found himself wandering closer. The shoes looked familiar. Those hideous Lemon-yellow pumps that two or three of Blair's minions liked to we-

_Holy Shit!_

The two or three other minions were in the next room. Well, pieces of them were. He felt himself go drowsy, then lightheaded, and then faint when he saw Nelly Yuki's head lying next to a coffee table.

* * *

><p>He came to still in the same place, head thumping from the sheer insanity of his environment. Luckily, he had fallen into one of the few areas of carpet not covered in blood. He sat up slowly, trembling with too much fear to scream. The splayed about limbs had no arrangement save that of chaos.<p>

He slowly accepted the fact that he was in a hotel room that appeared to have hosted the Snuff Film to end all Snuff Films.

"That book was right, you do have bad timing." A voice said. Dan whipped his head around. The sight was odd.

What appeared to be the disturbingly limp corpse of Blair's 'friend' Penelope was being sucked on by the formerly sane looking Virginian.

"Damon?" Dan gulped as a spurt of blood bubbled from Penelope's neck, then quickly found Damon's lips.

"Yes, Dan?" He replied.

Dan couldn't talk, so he hoped his trembling body and facial expression conveyed the reaction of _what is going on here?_

Damon smirked as he casually dropped the drained body to the ground. "You're a smart guy, Dan. You tell me what this looks like."

It looked like a bomb had gone off. A bomb with fangs.

"It looks…like…you did this?" Dan babbled, his sentence somehow coming out a question.

"Bingo." Said Damon, the sides of his almost-smiling mouth stained red. "Thanks for that picture by the way. I'm almost tempted to call it one-stop shopping."

With that, Dan sprang to his feet and bolted for the hopefully still open door. That was a great plan until, like the wind, Damon appeared in front of the door. The first thing that popped into his mind seemed like the logical thing to say. Or scream. "Don't kill me!"

Damon laughed a little. "Beg pardon?"

"Don't kill me!" Came Dan's scream, even louder this time.

Damon laughed a little more as he pushed past Dan to the living room. He grabbed a bottle of Bourbon. "I'm not going to."

Dan, who was now panting and self-pinned against a wall, still didn't look much calmer. "Really?"

"Yes, Dan. I'm not going to kill you." Damon repeated, almost looking annoyed. That still didn't stop Dan from hyperventilating. Damon approached Dan, trying to be as non-threatening as possible. He carefully but firmly put a hand around Dan's quivering jaw. "Look at me, Danny Boy. Look at me. What am I?"

"V-v-v-…." Dan sputtered.

"Almost there…"

"…Vampire?"

"There we go." Damon said. "Now, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you. Try and believe me, will you?"

Dan managed to nod. He, for whatever to reason, raised a shaking hand to point at Damon's mouth. Damon rolled his eyes as he showed just enough fang to satisfy Dan. "Believe me now?"

Dan nodded, finally breathing a bit closer to normally.

"Good. Now, you interrupted one of my meals. Why don't you come back later and we'll talk about this. Sound like a plan?" Damon suggested, taking a swig of Bourbon. Oddly enough, he didn't feel or see the need to compel anything. He had grown tired of the certainty of outcomes. He opened the door to let Dan out. "See you tomorrow, Dan."

Dan absentmindedly walked out the door. Damon's face fell as soon as the door closed. He had intended to give Dan great and new material for a book, not scare him off forever. Rubbing his face, he began the long process of finding his emotional off-switch.


	6. Prose

The dichotomy of the two men's reactions would have been enough to fill a quality, Conrad-style novella.

Dan, for whatever reason had fallen asleep/passed out the minute he had reached his bed. His night, after all, had tested the boundaries of what could tentatively be called reality. So overwhelmed was Dan that he had slept past his normal six to seven hours and was busy pushing ten.

Damon's night had been silent but troubled. He had spent the bulk of it glaring at the ceiling. He couldn't have cared less about what he did to those girls who had the nerve to follow him around. Their fate had been sealed when one had purposefully spilled coffee on his boots. Her death and taken a long time and was deranged even by his own standards.

However, he genuinely hadn't meant for Dan to see him feed. Dan had enough on his plate without discovering in such a bloody way that vampires were real. Sure Damon had played it pretty suave, but internally he had been just as nervous. Damon had fully intended to tell Dan at some point, but not really like that. He had been enjoying dropping little hints here and there, making a little game of it.

Who knew a game could end this badly? The bodies had been easy enough to dispose of and his suite was now perfectly clean. However, the look on Dan's face was what had gnawed at him all night. He was quite used to fear, just not on the face of someone he was slowly growing somewhat fond of.

Dan was amusing. He was brooding, negative, sarcastic, intellectually arrogant, overly self-righteous, fascinatingly judgmental, and, as Damon noted very quickly in their first meeting, spectacularly lonely. These were traits that he himself worked so hard to either suppress or harness. He enjoyed the two or three conversations they had. That, and Damon just had to like a guy who wrote a book bashing everyone.

What's more, Damon enjoyed that brief time when he got to be human again. They talked about literature and Southern architecture and Dan's weird infatuation with girls who were amazingly out of his league.

It was all out of his hands anyways. He'd move past it eventually, like always. He reasoned that his best course of action was to drink. To this end, he pulled a half-consumed bottle of Scotch from the floor and slowly consumed. As his eyes moved about, he eventually located his phone. Maybe that stupid little website would provide some amusement. He plucked it from the nightstand and immediately found himself laughing over the fact that his 'APB' had been replaced by Gossip Girl seeming partly desperate to find her three best spies. "Good luck, you little bitch." Damon half-grinned.

Rolling out of the bed, Damon thought that maybe he could buy himself some happiness. Who knows, maybe he would find some more leather jackets or boots to buy.

Back at The Loft, Dan's eyes finally eased open, cueing his mind to continue its racing from the previous night. To the best of his knowledge and memory, Damon Salvatore was vampire and had, well, eaten three of Blair's minions, but left him alive.

This was a very odd thought because Vampires were supposed to be fiction. Like those terrible movies he used to stay up all night and watch with Nate, though that was still a secret.

Why had he left him alive? Dan had wondered in on sheer horror, and Damon had gone out of his way to calmly inform Dan that he wasn't going to hurt him. That was odd behavior for the undead. Even weirder was the being out in the sunlight, which he thought was a no-no for Vampires.

These questions and more plagued Dan's mind as he fumbled for a cigarette. For a moment, he longed for the days when just his book drove him mad. He just had to be cursed. The first genuinely nice guy he had met since his life had collapsed was apparently occupied with human flesh.

The fellow was so occupied with human flesh was, at the moment, hauling shopping bags of designer jeans and three pairs of boots around the UES. Not even expensive clothes were a good distraction.

"Hey, you!" A sharp, almost shriek pierced his ears. Finely tuned hearing could really be a curse sometimes.

"Yes?" Damon said, turning on his heels. He reasoned it was another schoolgirl trying to submit info to Gossip Girl. He was partly right.

"Who are you?" Blair Waldorf demanded.

"A guy going jean shopping," Damon answered. "Who is being yelled at by the personification of mousey."

Blair looked aghast. This somewhat Southern sounding stranger had the Gaul to mock her in her domain. "What were you doing with Humphrey?"

"I was at a book signing. And he was signing books. It was an amazing coincidence." Damon replied, making full and humorous use of his eyebrow arching skills.

"And the lunch?" Blair demanded.

"Lunch, you mean that meal before dinner that people engage in, often times with other people?" Damon asked, setting his bags down. "What does Blair Waldorf care about who a random stranger has lunch with? Unless, of course, Blair Waldorf is jealous of anyone else who is around Dan."

"Will you stop with the five clause sentences!" Blair said, looking still angrier. "Humphrey is toxic, thus nobody should be interacting with him."

Damon made a wide-eyed, fake look of amazement. "Wow, you mean it's you who sets my schedule? Silly me and my free will."

"Who's this?" Came another voice.

"Let me guess…" Damon began, rolling his eyes. "You're the one with the substance abuse and the boundary issues."

Chuck really didn't find that amusing. "You shouldn't believe what lesser writers put in print. Though I probably can't explain that to a Hick."

"I'm from Virginia, you're thinking of Kentucky." Damon corrected, working very hard to keep from laughing. He turned his attention back to Blair. "Tell me, have you been used as collateral in any real estate deals lately?"

And that did it. Chuck swung a fist towards Damon. True to form, Damon casually moved his jaw out of the way before placing a very hard fist into Chuck's gut. Blair could have sworn it caused her fiancé to leave the ground slightly. He crumpled to the sidewalk in a blink.

Blair stood shocked.

Damon merely grinned before grabbing his bags and walking off. "For what it's worth, Dan still likes you."

The whole thing, video included, was up on Gossip Girl in seconds. As if Dan's life wasn't messed up enough.

His groan could be heard all throughout Brooklyn. He wasn't sure if this was so crazy it was funny or vice-verse. He ardently refused to admit it was at all funny. There was nothing funny about one punch turning Chuck into a heap on the sidewalk. Nothing funny at all.

After a short shower and another three cigarettes to clear his head, Dan, with cautious resolution, plugged a text into his phone.

_To: Damon_

_Nice punch._

From Manhattan, Damon stopped in his tracks, eyes glued at the message. He closed his eyes, the emotion known as relief washing over him. He didn't smirk; he smiled.

_To: Dan_

_My hotel room, two hours. Be there. And Dan? I swear, I'm not going to hurt you._


	7. Research

For the second time in basically a day, Dan was off to meet a vampire. No matter how many times he said it in his head, it didn't make sense, nor would it ever. It was like Bram Stoker, Dominik Dunne and William Faulkner had gotten together to write the world's weirdest story. Though, he still didn't know why the story needed to involve a beheaded Nelly Yuki and a drained Penelope. He would never admit it, but he knew that from this point on, that his life would be much easier simply because certain minions were gone.

In yet another cab on yet another ride, Dan found himself inordinately calm. The assurance that he wouldn't be harmed seemed to be enough to keep him from voiding his bowels. Though, he still wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Sure he had spent some years interacting with the self-contained insanity of the UES, but even though they threatened it, no one there could actually eat him. It was reality held in flux. As a writer, he wanted to write about it. Just thinking about it caused his eyes to slightly widen with stars.

On a deeper level, he was personally amused that he was going to interact with the undead. He was also relieved that Damon didn't seem to view him as a midday snack. Mentally, he was trying to comment questions to memory. Dan reasoned this was decently safe because Damon appeared to have impulse control and thus did not resemble the vampires from _30 Days Of Night_ that had kept Dan awake for several nights.

The cab finally slid up to the Essex House, and Dan blinked. He exited and made his way through the lobby and to the elevators. The ride to the top floor was painfully slow and filled with especially awkward thoughts, the most prevalent being that the last time he had been in the hotel suite, it had been scene to great horrors. Dan basically reasoned that Damon seemed charming enough that he surely wouldn't spend a whole night surrounded by gore. Though, he was a vampire.

The silver doors slip open and Dan could hear his heart beating in his ears. He suddenly felt so very foolish for thinking that Fashion Week was scary. In an almost autonomic manner, Dan retraced his steps from the night before. It was eerily quiet again, but Dan reasoned that was preferable to screams or the sounds of loud slurping. All good signs so far.

Dan found himself staring at the door. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to knock, or call or just wait. He reasoned he was supposed to knock. So he did. The wait was a quick one as the door opened as soon as his hand had fallen back into his pocket.

"Mornin'." Said Damon.

"Hey." Said Dan. He wasn't sure if there was some sort of special protocol for making perfunctory small talk with someone who had fangs. "Is, umm, everything cleaned up in there?" Dan asked, feeling a but obtuse in his reference to body parts.

"Yeah, " Damon nodded, leaning to one side to give proof. "I can be a bit of a neat freak sometimes. Come on in."

Dan nodded and followed Damon in. Sure enough, the place was spotless.

"Do you like what I've done with the place?" Damon asked as he plopped down on the couch and poured himself a drink.

"It's an improvement," Dan nervously chuckled. He wasn't sure if he was actually supposed to laugh at murder.

"I thought so. I'm not a fan of moist carpet." Damon said, taking a sip of Scotch. Dan wanted to force himself to laugh, but could only blink. "Bad joke, sorry. Have a seat." Damon offered

Dan nodded as he took a chair opposite the couch that Damon was now laying on. "So, vampires are real?" Dan finally asked.

"Ta-da," Damon said, jokingly spreading his arms out. "We're real. Just like witches and werewolves. It's a scary world out there, Danny Boy."

"Huh," Dan said, nodding. "But, you can go outside in the sun. Isn't that against the, um, rules?"

Damon was busy refilling his glass, so he merely held up his ring hand.

"Magic ring?" Dan asked.

"Yep," said Damon. "Works wonders sometimes. Next question?"

"You, at least, look young. Do you have an actual age?"

"I was turned at age 24. But that was back in 1864." Damon explained, mouth quirking into a small grin.

Dan, true to form, stared blankly at him. "So, you're…"

"171."

"Huh."

"I do show it well," Damon said. "Next?"

"Is the vampire interviewing me?" Dan asked. "I guess I have to ask why you killed Blair's minions?"

"They got annoying," Damon shrugged. "The really nerdy one spilled coffee on me. After that, I figured I had free-reign to play with my meal."

Dan felt the color drain from his face as he gulped. That was an odd way to phrase it. To think all that had started with a missing ID. "Oh, uh, you dropped this at lunch yesterday." Dan said, fishing the ID out of his wallet and handing it over. "Do you go to UVA?"

"Maybe," Damon shrugged, grabbing the ID. "Decent picture, though. And yes, I appear in pictures."

"Gotcha," Dan said. "Is the wooden stake thing true?"

"Yes, wood isn't my friend." Damon pointed out. "I have to ask, aren't you scared?"

"Oh, totally," Dan admitted. "I guess I'm just taking you at your word that I won't meet the same fate as Penelope."

"You're either trustworthy or gullible." Damon joked.

"You read my book, you tell me." Dan answered. "For the sake of normalcy, want to try and have lunch again and have it not end in…well, whatever happened last night?"

"Oh, sure," Damon laughed. "I'm still sort of full from last night."

"Not as funny as you think," Dan almost chuckled. "Also, nice punch."

"Thanks," Damon smirked. "That Chuck guy is annoying."

"See, you figured that out and you're a tourist. Imagine how I feel." Dan bemoaned.

"Touché." Damon added. "Oh, and I'm picking the restaurant again." He said. The Southern Vamp still hadn't felt quite the urge to inform him of all his powers. After all, Dan was a writer, and Damon knew that writer's hated spoilers.


	8. Textual Analysis

"Wait, witches and werewolves?" Dan suddenly blurted out in the elevator. His mind still on-edge was just now registering some of what Damon had told him some minutes earlier.

"What about them?" Damon asked.

"They're real?"

"Mm-hm." Damon nodded.

"Kay," Dan managed say, rubbing his chin and trying not to have another panic attack. He would most definitely be drinking at lunch. "Vampires eat actual food?"

"Well, for me, actual food is blood, but as long as that aspect of my diet is satisfied, the rest of me functions pretty normally." Damon explained.

Dan merely faked a look like he understood. He was content to merely go along with whatever this was. "So, if you're 171, that means you lived through the Civil War."

"Yep," Damon said. "It wasn't a pleasant experience."

"I figured," Dan added.

Since the elevator ride wasn't tense enough, Damon reasoned it would be humorous to, quite literally, whistle the song _Dixie_. Whether this was done a way to further get his age across or to make Dan laugh was even lost on Damon himself.

"Very funny, Johnny Reb." Dan retorted. "But you should be wearing grey, right?"

"In theory. I seem to remember most of the soldiers on both sides wearing rags towards the end." Damon said, not exactly fond of his memories of The War Between The States. The recollections of the days it took to count the dead from battle still managed to work themselves into his dreams on occasion.

"So, you liked my novel?" Dan asked, a mix of genuinely curious and fishing for a compliment. _Inside_ hadn't garnered much of a positive response from his friends; hence he was now relying on a flesh-eating Vampire for literary reassurance. Fall From Grace was an understatement.

"I did," Damon nodded, "Though, you and your friends don't sound like healthy people."

"You as the judge of healthy?"

"Good point," Damon said. "What could I possibly know about human interaction? I'm just a spoiled 24 year old. Oh, wait." He said, turning to shoot Dan a glance that mixed doubt and mockery.

"Fine, fine." Dan surrendered, laughing just a little. "At least you read it and haven't decided to socially ostracize me."

"Yet," Damon added. "If you write a book about me, I'll peel the flesh from your bones."

"Oh, that was the first thing I was going to do when I saw a severed head in your hotel room. 'This would be a great novel'." Dan deadpanned; somehow too scared to actually feel it. "Hey, I have that text where you said you swore you wouldn't hurt me."

Ah, yes, now Damon remembered. For a split second a day or so earlier, some displaced emotions had been worried that the not-totally un-interesting Dan Humphrey might have been scared off by his baser instincts. This led to the thought that any human being who could observe what happened and actually want to continue to interact with him might not be all bad. Damon knew very well that depression and loneliness had an odd way of breeding loyalty.

"What was it Blair called you?" Damon asked, rather out of the blue.

"Huh?" Dan responded, jolted out his slight peace. "In the book or real life?"

"There's a difference?"

"No, actually. Labrador."

"Labrador?" Damon repeated, a little confused but not showing it. "Is that even explainable?"

"I like to tell myself that it's because she thinks, well… thought, I was smart and loyal." Dan said, jaw tightening slightly. He had been working decently hard to avoid remembering that Blair was once viewed him as a person worthy of some form of her affections. "Why do you ask?"

"Nicknames amuse me." Damon answered, being honest. Dan thought such human things as nicknames would hold no sway with a vampire.

"So, last night… did I walk into your own little version of _30 Days Of Night_?" Dan asked, shuddering a little.

"No," Damon said, a little petulant. "That was a stupid movie. Do I look like I have claws and a stupid overbite full of yellow teeth? We're not animals, so don't get that in your head." He was a little offended that he could possibly be lumped in with that bad fiction.

"So, you guys don't… act like that?"

"No, Danny. We don't. It would ruin that whole hiding in plain sight thing." Damon half-humorously corrected. "And I would never be caught dead in Alaska."

"Good to know," Dan nodded. "That movie gave me nightmares."

"Did last night?" Damon inquired.

"Not yet. I think I'm still in shock."

"You're tough." Damon said, giving an actual compliment.

"Thanks?" Dan bounced back, not sure how he was supposed to take that. "Oh, are zombies and Mummies real?"

"Zombies? No," Damon answered. "Jury is still out on the Mummies. I haven't been to Egypt in a while, so I guess I need to check."

"What about Wendigos?"

"Don't mention them," Damon very quickly said, raising a stiff index finger in an instruction-like manner. "And never go into the Appalachians at night."

"Duly noted," Dan said, raising an eyebrow. "So, it's like _Deliverance_?"

"A little, with more Cannibalism."

Dan shifted on his heels, suddenly very aware that all the things that weren't supposed to go bump in the night actually did. It was shock mixed with a migraine. "So, are all vampires as, well I'll be generous here, friendly as you?"

Damon almost laughed at the fairly good backhanded compliment from the snarky writer. "No, I'm just a total ray of sunshine," Damon said, raising a hand to give Dan the finger. "But overall, I'm not too bad. Hence you're allowed to ask me stupid questions and I haven't snapped your neck."

"Wait, are you saying it's taking you genuine willpower to avoid attacking me?" Dan asked, feeling closer to Blair than ever.

"Maybe." Damon shrugged, enjoying the fact that Dan was maybe a little nervous. At least Dan could ask his questions with a very fake, but very convincing aura of calmness. He supposed that was decently necessary for writers.

The elevator, even slower than the previous night, finally reached the ground. Damon strode out while Dan sort of shuffled after him, the fact he was about to venture out and about in Manhattan with a Vampire heavily impressed on him. Even though it would have made him sound clinically insane, this was the spitting epitome of a quality Gossip Girl blast. That aside, Dan expected another one pretty soon seeing as he was back in the broadest of late Fall sunlight, again in Damon's tow. It had been less than a day since the Southerner had gut punched Chuck Bass and gotten, literally, right in the face of Blair Waldorf. If Dan remembered the UES correctly, half probably adored Damon, and the other half probably wanted him dead. Dan would be lying to himself if he didn't find that kind of cool.

"What are you doing?" Damon suddenly asked, turning his head. "You're not my slave, so stop walking behind me."

Dan nodded and moved to Damon's side. Mentally, he chose to view this as a begrudging admission of partial equality. Dan took it in stride. "What pointlessly expensive place are we eating at today?"

"Wherever I say," Damon smirked. "That's how it works. Learn it."

"Do I have to call you Master?" Dan asked.

"No, because I'm not Dracula. He has his own weird rules." Damon rolled his eyes.

"…Wait, what?"

"Oh, no, I've said too much," Damon said, sarcasm dripping from his hidden fangs. "Don't tell him I said anything, or you'll be followed around by bats and Theremin music."

"Better than being stalked by minions. Oh, never mind." Dan said, face neutrally happy.

"…You are twisted, Danny," Damon said, rewarding him with a smirk. "You owe me an awesome Hallmark card for temporarily solving your Gossip Girl problem."

"As I recall, I gave you the picture, you acted on it. We're even." Dan asserted. He was about to say something much, _much_ worse when his eyes suddenly darted forward. "Oh, crap."

Crap, indeed.

Stepping out of a cab was the Golden Boy himself, Dan's former best friend forever, Nate Archibald.

Damon looked back and forth between the two for a few seconds. He honestly didn't know if this was going to end hilariously or in some weird, tabloid melodrama. Either way, he intended to enjoy it. "I can guess who that is." He tried to joke, but Dan hadn't broken eye contact with Nate. Oddly enough, Damon suddenly found himself on the sidelines of a conversation.

Dan had wandered over and tried to strike up a discussion with Nate, who merely looked like he was going to start swinging punches at any moment. Though their hands remained in their pockets, Damon could pick up the tense facial expressions and body language. The two kids, by Damon's standards, were perfect candidates for couples counseling. Knowing he could easily make the whole thing worse, Damon cheerfully sauntered over.

"Hello." He said simply. Nate merely glared as Dan rubbed his forehead.

"And you are?" Nate responded angrily. Damon cocked an eyebrow.

"Damon Salvatore," He answered, sticking a hand out. Nate made the mistake of shaking hands, letting Damon happily squeeze, almost mash, his hand.

"Damon!" Dan interjected, causing the two to break their weird feats of strength contest. Nate stepped back, rubbing his hand.

Nate muttered some further expletives and turned to leave before Dan chased after. Damon viewed this as an emotional safari and walked after the two who were arguing smack in the middle of the sidewalk. Their hand gestures and facial expressions slowly grew more animated.

It would have been funny had Damon not noticed the very faint traces of water forming at the corners Dan's eyes. He saw more emotion in the writer's face at that moment than he could remember from anyone else he knew, including family. Damon sighed. He was going to punch Dan Humphrey for involving him in all this.

Damon approached them, trying not to think of all the bickering young teenagers he had seen torn and blown to shreds back in the days of Rebels and Yankees. Not asking Dan's permission, he stuck himself in front of Nate and turned on the compelling.

"Listen, Nate. You're going to calm down, follow Dan and me to lunch, and then have an adult conversation. Got it?"

Nate nodded, perfectly obedient.

With that, Damon turned and continued walking. Dan and Nate remained quiet as they followed after. Dan eventually caught up with Damon, who looked somewhere between frustrated and emotional. "I owe you a thank you." Dan said quietly.

"And at least two more minions," Damon groused. "At least."


	9. Content

As he watched the two dark-haired figures walk slightly in front of him, Nate was just a little curious as to how Dan had become acquainted with someone who appeared to be a male model. Maybe Dan wasn't as blasé as everyone thought. Nate remained curious as to what the two were talking about. Every so often, Dan would say something that made that Damon guy laugh. Though, the way he laughed, Nate got chills up and down his spine.

The wandering trio eventually settled on an empty but still pleasant looking diner. Damon was curious as to how much the Upper East Side could charge for somewhat basic foods. Damon chuckled just a little as Dan and Nate tried to avoid sitting too close. This was awkward since they had been assigned a semi-circular booth. Never one to miss a chance to enjoy the squabbling of mortals, Damon planted himself somewhat in the middle. His entirely too happy smirk caused both Dan and Nate to roll their eyes. Dan knew why Damon found all this so amusing. Nate just assumed the two were nuts.

After their coffee had been ordered, Dan cleared his throat. "We all got off to an awkward start. Nate, meet Damon. Damon, meet Nate."

Nate gave a slight grunt, his hand still hurting a little. Damon merely quirked an eyebrow as a response.

"Please just try and play nice," Dan encouraged, ever the middleman. "Like grown-ups."

Nate rolled his eyes. "Weird idea from a guy who wrote some cheap tell-all."

"It wasn't supposed to be published, Nate. It was stolen." Dan explained through slightly gritted teeth for about the fourth time.

"So? You still made me into a kid," Nate spat, voice a few hitches away from actual anger.

"Wait, what?" Damon blurted out, trying to put the pieces together from the book he had read in one morning. Luckily, he hadn't grown up with these clinically insane children of privilege, thus was not privy to all of the details Dan had alluded to with _Inside_.

"He didn't tell you?" Nate asked, casting a glare at Dan, who in turn shifted focus elsewhere. "Oh, he made me younger than everybody else, and made me so immature it wasn't actually funny. Great friend behavior, right Dan?"

Dan gulped, still not knowing how to explain any of what he had written. "How many times have I apologized to you?"

"That's not the point," Nate said, voice low from anger.

"First off, he's apologizing for something he had no control over," Damon interjected. "Either you enjoy him being the martyr or you're just that angry. Which is it?"

"How is that any of your business?" Nate replied.

"I'm stuck sitting between you two kids in a misguided attempt at playing diplomat. Humor me." Damon said, quirking an eyebrow.

From his spot, Dan was quiet, but was trying to keep up with the back and forth verbiage. He was content to let Damon try and pry some information from the lately reticent Archibald. Dan was content to let the supernatural do his emotional dirty work for him.

"Well, Nate, which is it?" Damon asked again. Nate angrily cleared this throat.

"The point was he was supposed to be more loyal than that."

Damon's eyebrows slowly arched up. Dan found himself with mouth agape.

"What?" Nate asked aloud. "Is loyalty a feeling that's supposed to be beyond the grasp of the dull stoner?"

Damon knew better than to step further into this emotional minefield. He silently passed the verbal ball to Dan.

"Is that why you're mad?" Dan asked, genuinely hurt and touched. Nate nodded once.

"Of all the people in our world, Dan. It wasn't supposed to be you. You weren't supposed to stoop down to our level." Nate finally said, masking the tremble in his voice very well.

"What makes this better, Nate? What fixes us?" Dan finally asked, after an amazingly awkward stillness.

"You looking at me and telling me you didn't mean it. You look me in the eyes and tell me I'm not what you wrote." Nate answered.

For a brief moment, Damon reasoned that maybe witches and werewolves really weren't the scariest things in the world. He had forgotten the horror stories that came with actual twentysomethings. He hoped that sipping on coffee would somehow make him invisible. It was obvious to everyone at the booth that everyone else was working very hard to pick their words very carefully. Dan finally cleared his throat

"Nate, I didn't sit down and write that book overnight. It was something that started when I was in high school and I added onto it every so often. You know me, Nate. I'm moody and insecure. Remember what Serena put the both of us through? Remember high school? I remember you being the only one who would eat lunch with me. Do you remember Milo, Nate? Do you? Just because I wrote something in the past doesn't mean I mean any of it now. Now, you look at me and tell me if you think for one second I'm not being sincere."

Nate was frozen in his seat, Dan was again trying not to cry, and Damon was wishing he was somehow back in the Civil War. It was as awkward as each of them thought it was. The Southern Vamp was by no means going to be the first to talk. He knew the lunch would be awkward, but _wow_. He wasn't really sure of the exit strategy for this conversation; that key and path resided with the two mortals.

"Nate?" Dan finally said.

Yet another pause as Nate shifted in his spot. He looked up slowly, those famous blue eyes finally locking on Dan. They were filled with a feeling he hadn't shown in a while: approval.

"Yes, Dan?" Nate asked back, his face sliding into a smile.

And that was that, apparently. Damon suddenly felt like he could be a great politician. "You know, you two can get married in New York. Fun laws up here." Damon pointed out. Dan and Nate groaned slightly with laughter.

"Thanks, Damon," Dan said. "But I hear weddings are expensive."

"Oh, that's right." Damon chuckled. "You two both want Blair. Or is it Serena again? I'm confused. Judging by his book, Danny Boy seemed to want to sleep with most of you people."

"Not Chuck," Nate added, taking a sip of coffee. "That would end with blood on the walls."

Damon burst into laughter as soon as the sentence was uttered. It was timed perfectly with Dan choking on his coffee.

"What's funny?" Nate quizzically asked.

"Nothing, nothing," Dan quickly took over. "It's just that, uh… Damon was mentioning earlier about how he liked gory movies." He reasoned that was a great cover for murder.

"The gorier the better." Damon said, shifting his glance from Dan to Nate.

"Uh-huh," Nate said, a little unnerved. "So, how did you two meet?"

"Danny over there was trying to drown his sorrows in some pointlessly expensive bar," Damon explained. "I took it upon myself to mock him for being annoyingly mopey."

"And the book signing?" Nate asked, showing he still perused Gossip Girl.

"Well, Danny Boy emoted all over the place at the bar. Gave me a signed copy of the book and everything. I tracked him down at the book signing. And it just kinda fell into place from there."

"How bromantic," Nate said, wiggling an eyebrow. This earned a chuckle from Dan and a slight bit of a growl from Damon. "Relax. Dan has the weird ability to win people over. Hence we're all here." Nate explained.

Dan had a good quip ready when all three of their phones buzzed. The trio exchanged glances as they went for their respective mobile devices. Nate got to his first.

"Huh. The Minions are still missing," he said, reading over the Gossip Girl latest blast. "And she still doesn't know who you are."

"Delightful," Damon said simply. Dan gulped a little as he observed Damon freely able to listen to someone mention people he had slaughtered. "I'm sure they'll roll around sometime."

Dan was beside himself with what was probably fear. He was in awe that it was all so casual. "You're not going to rat him out, are you Nate?"

"Nah," Nate shrugged. "I like watching the whole UES wonder how Dan keeps showing up with A-list looking people around him."

Lengthy and slightly shaggy hair aside, Damon definitely qualified. Nate wondered if all the annoying texts from Blair he had gotten since yesterday were because Dan had again beaten the laws of averages and latched on with some mysterious stranger. Damon was probably still a little confused by it, but Nate knew that the Southerner was still in the wonderful throws of the fabled and oddly mythical Humphrey Charm.


	10. Pages

Their food finally arrived, and Dan quickly reverted back to his uniquely Brooklyn habit of unflappably grabbing food off of other people's plates.

Damon discovered, first hand, the humorous awkwardness of it all when Dan casually plucked a curly fry off of his plate.

"What was that?" Damon sputtered in a slight drawl.

"Hmm?" Dan replied, chewing on the fry.

"You…don't you have your own food?"

"Yeah, but I wanted one of those fries," Dan shrugged. "They look good."

"They are, but they're mine." Damon answered. Nate laughed and leaned forward.

"Get used to it," Nate advised. "Dan has no concept of boundaries. You should see him drink."

"Uh-huh." Damon said as he flattened his eyebrows in what was theoretically a threatening manner. It more or less came off as deadpan. Perhaps he was finally lightening up somewhat. Dan merely quirked off that little grin he was so good at.

"Am I allowed to ask why you gutpunched Chuck?" Nate asked, trying not to betray any real tells. Damon just shrugged.

"I felt it was my duty as a person with awesome hair to hit someone who walked around with that much hair gel." Damon answered. Dan briefly choked on his sandwich with laughter.

"What did you say to Blair?" Dan asked, suddenly acutely remembering the video of his little altercation. Damon had mumbled something to the shocked Waldorf.

"Some joke about her face," Damon flatly lied. He was actually enjoying his current meal and so no need to ruin it. "She had a really shocked facial expression. Probably because of the guy on the ground crying."

"Chuck was crying?" Dan asked, using a good deal of energy trying to contain his glee.

"Oh, yeah," Damon smirked. "Are you surprised? Look at how he dresses. Ascots aren't toughguy clothing."

"But man-rings are?" Nate asked, pointing towards Damon's hand.

"When you're me, yeah," Damon answered, believing every word of what he was saying. "Did you see my punch?"

Nate nodded, rolling his eyes just a little. This Damon guy was, well, a little weird. In Nate's eyes, it was like someone rolled Dan and Blair together and gave the resulting male product a leather jacket, Southern accent and impressively expressive facial features. It appeared that Damon could have an entire conversation with eyes and brows only.

"Has anyone seen Chuck since that?" Dan asked.

"He's been calling me nonstop trying to find out the name of whoever hit him," Nate shrugged. "He's already started rewriting it. He now claims it was a cheap shot."

"He swung first," Damon said, a little offended. "And how can a punch in the gut be cheap?"

"Because it was captured on camera," Dan mused. A discussion that centered on Damon's physical strength was an odd one for Dan, largely because he knew at least a portion of Damon's muscle. "It doesn't help that no one knows your name."

"I'm mysterious like that." Damon grinned with playful voice, making Dan laugh and Nate sort of shrug.

"Were you a boxer or something?" Nate asked.

"Football player, but that was a while ago." Damon explained.

Dan made note of this, in case he ever did decide to very secretly write a story. He also noted that he had an odd habit of befriending jocks; Nate with his [their] soccer and lacrosse and now Damon with football. There was probably a pattern, but he wasn't enthusiastic enough to pursue it.

"How do you like Gossip Girl?" Dan asked of Damon. Nate's eyes perked up at this. The two of them were grizzled veterans of said website, and largely immune to some of her powers. Damon was more or less fresh to the scene.

"I have the nagging suspicion she doesn't have a life." Damon answered.

"Our lives are her life," Nate partly corrected. "It's kinda screwy, but you had to grow up with it."

"I think you're all kinda screwy." Damon asserted.

"Took you long enough to figure that out," Dan said, earning a nod from Nate. "I earned a spot on her crap list when I dated Serena. Then I had the nerve to become friends with Blair. She's really defensive."

"And I'm her latest target? Why?" Damon asked, not showing his actual confusion.

"Because you're hanging around with me." Dan said.

"Because you punched Chuck." Nate added.

"…Huh." Damon concluded. New York was a lot different than he remembered. Damon had liked it better when it was roving gangs of really angry and unemployed immigrants. Ah, he missed the late 1800s.

"Have Blair's minions found you yet?" Nate asked, laughing a little as he shoved some sandwich in his mouth. Dan quickly chugged coffee to avoid showing the fact all the color had drained from his face.

"Nah," Damon shrugged. "I hope no one loses their head over trying to find me. I'm not that interesting. Right, Danny Boy?"

"Uhhh… not that I've seen, no." Dan stammered. He tried to communicate some sort of look of disapproval towards the Vamp. Damon's eyebrows fluttered carelessly. Dan put on a subtle glower.

"It's weird you all use terms like 'minions'," Damon noted. "What is Blair supposed to be, exactly?"

"The Queen of the Village of the Damned," Dan answered. "Or Scarlett O'Hara."

"Yeah, whoever wrote _Gone With The Wind_ would be proud." Nate joked, showing off the fact he actually read some of the books Dan had encouraged him to. Dan noted this internally.

"Margaret Mitchell." Damon said between bites of curly fries. Dan looked impressed. Though, for all he knew Damon was at the original 1936 release party. "So, both of you went after Queen Blair?"

"I went first," Nate sighed. "Dan came in later. Though, it was a bit of a failure to launch."

"That's putting it nicely," Dan scoffed. "Let's just say that social roles take precedence with her."

"And she's a bitch." Nate said, translating for the still longing Dan.

"Nate, not cool." Dan corrected. Damon smirked.

"Why is she untouchable around here?" He asked.

"She's Blair." Dan and Nate answered in unison. That was all they could really come up with.

"Uh-huh," Damon said, a singular eyebrow aloft. "And you, Danny Boy, are so mad… why?"

"Because she went back to Chuck." Dan answered.

"And she wasn't supposed to?" Damon asked. "Are you mad because it happened or because you felt it was supposed to happen with you?"

"He swapped her for a Hotel!" Dan blurted out, his curls bouncing a little. "And she goes back to him. I don't think even you can explain that, Damon."

At this, Nate cocked an eyebrow. "What makes him so special?"

"I'm Southern," Damon answered, narrowing his glance at Dan. He wasn't mad, just a little surprised Dan would dare bounce the secret ball back at him like that. "That means I have a unique insight when it comes to manipulative women." It wasn't really a lie, but more of a selective omission.

"Okay." Nate said, a little perplexed but satisfied with the answer.

"Danny would be a lot better off if he would have been the one to punch Chuck," Damon teased. "But I am guessing I'm stronger."

"I punched Chuck plenty before you got here. It was almost a once a month thing." Dan bragged. Damon was impressed. Writers had come a long way, apparently.

The conversation tapered off as everyone returned to their food. As much as he wanted to write them off as whiney twentysomethings [which they were], Damon couldn't completely. They weren't as one-dimensional as he was accustomed to. He had just watched two people go from enemies back to friends in one decently awkward conversation. He couldn't tell if he was impressed or not.


	11. Dust Jacket

The lunch ended harmoniously for both Dan and Nate, something they never imagined would happen. Along with showing maturity and emotional honesty, it probably helped that a vampire had aided the wheels of recuperation.

Damon stood casually to the side as Dan and Nate roped each other into a laughing hug. When Dan had navigated his way back, Damon jokingly groaned.

"That was sickeningly sentimental." The Southern Vamp groused.

"And you helped," Dan replied, giving Damon a thankful pat on the shoulder. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

"Though, next time I actually let you meet one of my friends, drop the vampire-puns." Dan said.

"Why?" Damon inquired, a little proud of himself for making Dan so uncomfortable during the meal.

"Because puns are lazy writing," Dan corrected.

"Way to sound like a writer," Damon slightly laughed back. "I just wanted to see how much you'd squirm."

"And?" Dan asked.

"You're either really fine with me being a Vamp, or you're still in total shock," Damon observed, trying to study Dan's facial expression and body language. "Which is it?"

"As you said, Damon, I'm still gullible enough to believe that you won't hurt me," Dan countered. "And yeah, I'm still in shock but I'm slowly processing what you are."

"And that is?'

This caught Dan flatfooted. His phrasing had been a bit impersonal and he hadn't meant that. He chewed on his bottom lip a little to bide his time. Damon wasn't as patient.

"You're the writer, Danny Boy. So out with it." Damon said, not mad, but using a pressing voice.

"You are something that I didn't think belonged in the reality of a sane Universe," Dan explained, showing off that he really did earn his A in Creative Writing class. "That's not to say it's a bad thing, you actually have wonderful friend qualities."

Damon's eyebrows slowly arched. "Friend qualities? Meaning what?"

"You mean besides showing up to my ghastly book signing? Or eating lunch with me two days in a row? Or going out of your way to help me break the ice with Nate?" Dan listed the reasons. "I get you're undead and mysterious and all that, but you do seem like a good guy."

"This after you watched me kill Blair's Minions?" Damon asked.

"Point of fact, I never saw the killing, I wandered in on it afterwards," Dan said. "And, well, I guess I understand that you felt your secret might have been threated. I'm not going to blame you for self-preservation."

"Huh." Damon nodded, not knowing how to accept the idea of a non-judgmental human. It was almost insane to think that Dan was, dare say, cool with Damon being a vampire.

"Besides, you are a lot more fun to be around than most of the Upper East Side," Dan laughed. "And I like watching Gossip Girl tirelessly try and chase you down."

"Well, I suppose your life is a little amusing to me as well," Damon said, voice a little more open. "Your book did paint a pretty volatile picture of life around here."

"How so?" Dan asked.

"It was like…you threw everything on the pages and you just wanted to see what would stick," Damon said, feeling quite proud of himself for sounding so erudite. "You were shouting at the rain, I think."

"Nice phrase," Dan complimented. "It's Cormac McCarthy from _Blood_ _Meridian_. And yeah, that's what I was doing. I just never meant for my shouts to become public."

"Yeah, what was all that about?"

"Really? I figured you'd have scanned and combed through Gossip Girl to find out." Dan shrugged.

"Color me actually curious," Damon retorted. "Care to explain?"

"Back at my place, sure," Dan agreed. "I kind of have to be drinking to get through the story."

"…Huh," Damon laughed a little. "That doesn't sound good."

"Oh, it isn't." Dan griped, hailing a cab.

Halfway through the cab ride, when he wasn't certain the driver didn't speak any English at all, Damon finally opened his mouth. "I haven't even thought about Brooklyn since the Draft Riots."

"…Of 1863?" Dan asked.

"The very same," Damon nodded. "Even down in Dixie we heard about those. Then there was that really over-acted movie."

"Gangs Of New York." Dan laughed, recalling how much Blair had whined about it when they watched it together one night. "Yeah, that was a brutal movie."

They continued to chitchat about why fake accents in movies were so much fun until the cab pulled up to the The Loft. Dan paid the cabbie and led Damon upstairs.

"Wow, this is really cliché," The Vamp laughed, not sure if he meant to be insulting.

"Yeah, yeah," Dan nodded. "Get it out of your system." He fumbled for his door key and slightly stumbled in after having to jimmy the door with slight force. He turned to note Damon standing just outside the doorframe. "What are you doing? Come on-… ah, right."

"Oh, come on!" Damon groaned. "_This_ is the one rule you know about vampires? Dick move, Danny Boy."

"Hey, cut me some slack." Dan shrugged. Damon looked around The Loft.

"You can invite me in, Dan," Damon reassured. "There is no way I'd steal anything from this place."

"Ouch, that hurts," Dan feigned indifference. He knew was slightly naïve, but that Damon, unless angered or very hungry, probably wouldn't hurt him. And Damon, like Blair, appeared to be in genuine physical pain just by being in Brooklyn.

"Well?" Damon asked, eyebrows humorously dancing.

"…Do come in, Damon." Dan finally said. Damon mockingly repeated it in high-pitched tone.

"So, is this where you drink and have formulaic writer thoughts, right?" Damon asked, plopping down on the coach and propping his boots up on the coffee table.

"Just drink," Dan said. "All the good thoughts happen in bed or in the bathroom."

"Ah," Damon laughed. "Very Hemmingway."

"Minus the suicide. That's really cliché." Dan said, showing off his dark humor side. He rummaged through the fridge before finding a very cheap bottle of vodka. He completed the irony by serving it in actually expensive glasses [a Serena birthday gift].

"So, someone stole your book? Like… literally?" Damon asked, taking a drink.

"There once was a girl named Vanessa," Dan began, face dropping any and all humor. "She liked me, I liked her. She was just kind of…clingy, then distant, then both at once. This continued for several years. Then one night, I was at a pleasantly memorable dinner party, she broke in here and found my prized little secret. And she took it. And it was published. Boom." Dan said, eyes looking sharp yet dead.

"…Huh," Damon said, still drinking. It was bizarrely tragic, like a Soap Opera. "If she liked you, why did she do it?"

"…I don't know," Dan answered. "She decided for me that it needed to be published."

"That's a little crazy." Damon said.

"Just a little." Dan agreed. Though, it was no crazier than sharing a drink with a Vampire.


	12. Blurbs

As the two continued to bond over cheap liquor, Damon finally asked the question he had wanted an answer to for quite a while.

"Why Blair?"

"Not a clue," Dan shrugged, meaning it entirely. "I don't think I had any control over it. If that makes sense."

Damon's mind flashed to Katherine. "Oh, yeah. That actually makes perfect sense."

"How so?"

"You wanted the exact opposite of your environment," Damon said, scanning the loft with a humorous glint in his eyes. "And Blair is the opposite. Of this, of you, of everything."

"Isn't that kind of cliche?" Dan asked.

"Oh, most definitely," Damon nodded. "But that doesn't impact how true it is."

"Fascinating." Dan half-laughed. Damon cocked an eyebrow.

"Why did you never go after her?" The Vamp asked.

"I wrote her a book!" Dan blurted out, for a brief second very angry. "And what happened? She's still stuck in high school?" He said. "Whoever is writing the story of my life is a terrible writer."

"Haven't you considered that you're the one writing it?" Damon said, taking a sip of Vodka.

"And how would that make sense?" Dan asked back. "Name me a book where a character does everything right and still can't win."

_"The Sound and the Fury_." Damon replied.

"...Fair point," Dan nodded, pouring himself another large glass. The glass was at his lips almost immediately. "The kick of this whole thing is, if my life were a novel or movie, the act of me suffering in silence and writing a book would normally be enough to win me the girl."

"Dan, I don't think the girl is worth winning," Damon drawled. "She seems kind of sketchy."

"Enough of that." Dan spat. Even after everything he had been through with and for her, he was still completely loyal to Blair Waldorf. It was more sad than touching. From the right angle, Dan resembled less of a stoic, brooding writer, and more of a dog that refused to leave what he viewed as his owner. Dan was about to speak again when a knock sounded at the door. Quickly, Damon caught a very familiar scent.

"_Oh, shit_." The vamp muttered under his breath.

"Come in!" Dan hollered, still drinking. The door threw open with anger before anyone else could talk.

"Humphrey!" Blair yelled, "Where are my min- You!"

"...Me." Damon said, smirking and giving a fingers only wave.

"What do you want. Blair?" Dan asked, too emotionally frazzled to feel anything besides stress.

"Who is he?" She demanded, pointing a very angry finger towards Damon. Dan rolled his eyes.

"He's a friend. Am I not allowed to have those any more?"

Blair wasn't in the mood for Dan's sharp little quips. "Not when no one knows who he is."

"Yeah, that's kind of my thing," Damon laughed, earning a grin from Dan.

"Okay, what is this?" Blair demanded, looking back and forth between the two. She was a little confused as to why a guy who looked and sounded like a moviestar would be hanging around Lonely Boy. "Did Dan rope you in with some sob story?"

"No," Damon shook his head. "We met at a bar. He gave me a copy of _Inside_." He explained with a shrug. "Why? You jealous?"

"What?" Blair sputtered, caught off guard.

"C'mon," Damon laughed. "I'm a total upgrade in terms of BFF territory."

"Is this some type of game, Humphrey?" Blair asked, turning back to Dan.

"...Game?" Dan repeated. "How is this a game?"

"You and this guy are all over Gossip Girl. Is this your idea of how to get noticed again?" Blair spat.

"No, Blair," Dan shook his head. "This isn't some elaborate scheme or game. Though, I do like some games."

Damon and Blair fixed their gazes on Dan, who was morphing from harmless drunk to something else.

"I like some party games. My favorite is _Get The Guest_. Ever played that, Blair?"

No response.

"Well, Damon mentioned my book. But I haven't told him about the second book I wrote. It's very good. It hasn't been published yet, but would you both like to hear about it?"

Blair stood stunned, not entirely sure what was going on. Damon, on the other hand, knew precisely what was going on. In theory, he should have done something to stop it, but, well... he was happy to let the animal side Dan tried so hard to repress run wild and free.

"Right then. So this second book of mine, it's more of a story rather than an a memory piece like _Inside_. I call it _Blood Under The Bridge_. It was pretty hard to write. Anyways, it's about this young, glitzy couple and all the crazy things they do," Dan began to explain. "This young glitzy couple rules over a little feifdom of a big city. The guy in the couple is a bit of an odd bird. He dresses fancy all the time and always seems to talk in a whisper."

"Humphrey? W-what are you doing?" Blair managed to say.

"It's just a game, Waldorf. Calm down." Dan said. "As I was saying, That's what the guy was like. Now, the girl. She was interesting. She hated men because of her daddy issues which she refused to talk about. She was a very...Queeny in her ways. She had all these friends and they all had issues. Sadly, all these friends often took and advantage of her. At one point, her dashing little boyfriend went very dark and orchestrated the real estate deal from Hell and made her life miserable. So, what was poor Queeny to do? Who could she possibly talk to?"

"Dan, stop!" Blair called out.

"You be quiet!" Dan yelled back. The controlled rage in his eyes suddenly made Damon wonder if Dan had the werewolf gene. "I'll tell you what Queeny did. She put aside her snobby prejudices for once in her life, and actually opened up to someone. But, as it turns out, this someone was just, to her, a portable couch to cry on and then sneak out in the morning. Thus, this poor lonely someone became attached. It was only natural."

"Dan, you might wanna hold back on these horses." Damon said, finally acting like an adult.

"And where's the fun in that?" Dan asked, voice bleeding sarcasm. "But let me get to the point of my book. H. I."

"H.I.?" Both Damon and Blair repeated.

"Historical inevitability," Dan explained. "You see, that poor lonely someone was, and is, devoted to Queeny to a point that fails all human understanding. Neither are capable of accepting their own historical inevitability. One will wind up alone for the rest of his life, and the other will become a battered housewife."

At that, Blair finally ran from The Loft, her face flush with fear and tears. Damon, eyebrows full raised, turned his attention back to Dan.

"And that," Dan said, his face locked in self-loathing smile. "is how you play _Get The Guest._"


	13. Plot Twist

Disclaimer: I don't own TVD or GG or any of the characters therein. No copyright issues intended.

"Wow," Damon said, a little shocked. "What was that, Dan?"

"What was what?" Dan asked, slowly coming off his alcohol induced journey.

"That little...exercise with Blair."

Dan chuckled a little. "Several years of pent up aggression." He sighed.

"That you had to do in front of me?" Damon rolled his eyes.

"What? I thought Vampires liked it when lesser beings got in fights." Dan countered.

Damon shrugged. It was a little annoying how well Dan seemed to know how he functioned. Sure, perhaps that Blair Waldorf girl had deserved it, but no matter how erudite it had come off, it had been disturbing display. "So, that's an angry Dan Humphrey?" Damon asked.

"Yep," Dan nodded. "What, are you worried I might turn my vocabulary on you?"

In a flash, Damon had his right hand around Dan's throat and was lifting him effortlessly in the hair. "You shouldn't be a bully," Damon warned. "It's a very unattractive trait on you, _Hump_."

Dan nodded slowly. "Sorry."

"Thought so," Damon nearly growled before lowering him to the ground. "You could have at least let Blair say what she wanted before you went all Tennessee Williams on her."

Dan shrugged. "Who knows. Probably just to brag about something invovling Chuck."

"She'd be that petty?" Damon asked.

"No, but Chuck could get her to do it," Dan groused. "You think I was joking when I said he was insane?"

"No, Danny Boy," Damon laughed. "I've figured out you're all insane."

"Clever. I hope you've learned that not all monsters need fangs or howl at the moon." Before Damon could make a snarky line, he flashed to the front door, opening it. He studied the empty hallway. "Damon, what's up?"

"Weird smell," Damon said. "Like that Chuck guy."

"He wouldn't be caught dead in Brooklyn. Trust me." Dan nodded, moving to observe the Vamp. "Though, he's probably still steaming you beat the shit out of him."

Damon's face broke into a smile and his eyebrows danced. "That was fun. I can see why you enjoy punching him."

Dan smirked and nodded. Agreeing with Damon, but not going to vocalize it. "So, is there someone out here?"

"No, just a weird smell," Damon said, looking around before his eyes caught sight of it. "Ah."

"What?" Dan asked following after him. "And are you a Vampire or Georgia Bloodhound?"

"Six of one, really," Damon shrugged, leaning down to pluck an envelope up off the ground and handing it to Dan.

With a roll of his eyes, Dan flipped it open and pulled out the letter. "Blah, blah, cordially invited to a special annoucement at the...Empire," Dan stopped. "That Bitch!" He almost yelled before storming back to The Loft.

"Dare I ask?" Damon asked, following.

"It's her formal Wedding announcement," Dan fumed, eyebrows knitting together. "That bitch..."

"Huh," Damon said. This was beyond awkward. This was clearly Chuck or Blair's -or boths- retaliation for Damon punching Chuck. Dan, as it appeared, was merely collateral damage. He was slowly figuring out that most of the people Dan knew probably couldn't be classified as human, but they were easily sociopaths of the highest and finest order.

"Now I'm glad I made her cry," Dan grumbled, dropping into a chair, eyes going dead slowly.

Damon wasn't overly sure what to say. This was all very 1860s in its feeling. Dashed hopes, denied love, diffident second and third parties. All it needed was a war as a backdrop and Damon would have felt right at home. Well, he supposed the whole Humphrey v. Waldorf & Bass was ten times more emotionally violent than any traditional war.

"What should I do?" Dan finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Find the best looking tuxedo you can afford, and don't lie, I know you have money, go there and show her that she made a mistake she's going to regret for the rest of her shallow little life." Damon said, ending the sentence with a playful half-smile.

Dan nodded as he rose, fetching his wallet. He paused as he walked by Damon. He smirked as, God forbid, he pulled Damon Salvatore into a hug.

"Okay, what is this?" Damon laughed. "I don't do hugging, Danny Boy," He said, but still slinging one arm around the author. "Now go buy your tuxedo. I'll meet you back here later. Got it?"

"Got it," Dan smirked. "I owe you another one, Damon."

"That you do," Damon answered.

Dan was out the door, Damon followed a short time after. The two were so comically mismatched; Dan with his flannel and Damon with his ironic leather jackets.

Dan was in a cab, one of the designer stores he knew his destination. All the fanciest and priciest stores loved him, the names dropes in his book had been a blessing as far as marketing and sales were concerned. But even so, Dan always felt awkward in a tuxedo. This was evident as he stood in the sizing mirror at Christian Dior. Necktie, bowtie, point-tie, two piece, three piece? It was all so confusing.

"Three piece and wear a necktie. Full Windsor knot," chimed a female voice behind him. Dan tried to smoothly spin on his heels. He was floored. The girl was stunning. She had flowing and wavy Raven hair, tan, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Do...do you work her?" Dan asked, again rendered stupid and clumsy. It was his eternal curse.

"No, just picking out a dress or two," She said. "I just recognize you from the tabloids."

"Thanks?" Dan partly asked, still not sure if that was a compliment.

"You're welcome." She said as she fished something from her large but very fashionable purse. "Too much to ask for an autograph?"

It was a copy of _Inside_. Dan almost rolled his eyes, but kept his manners. "Sure," he nodded, pulling out a pen and accepting the book. "What's your name?" He asked.

"Katherine."

"Pretty name," Dan smiled as he put pen to paper. His own libido got the best of him. He blamed her smile.

_To Katherine, Thanks for being a fan! XOXO, Dan._

He handed her the book with a smile. Before he knew it, she took his hand and scribbled her phone number on his palm. She gave a flirty, fingers only wave as she turned and left. Dan stood, his eyebrows nearly at his hairline. These things were not supposed to happen to him. Per her request, he purchased a three-piece tuxedo and a jet black neck tie. Well, it was amusing that even after all this, he still obeyed gorgeous girls and their fashion advice. It was obviously some form of conditioning, but we has too trained to know it.

Suitbag in hand and over the shoulder, Dan plugged the number from palm into his phone. He tried to use the author side of his brain to think of something witty, but not needy.

_To: Katherine_

_So, what caught your eye?_

The reply came quickly.

_From Katherine_

_Any man who shops for a tuxedo at such a nice store is just bound to be interesting._

That time, Dan knew it was a compliment.


	14. Introduction

Still seeking to avoid the awkwardness that was the previous few hours Dan and Blair interaction, Dan had returned to his lavish hotel suite for a nap. He was thankful he rarely remembered his dreams because he was pretty sure Dan's little angry rant was all very _Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf_, a movie which still somehow managed to make Damon quite uncomfortable.

He shed his clothes and eased himself into the marble tub in the bathroom, content to sit and do nothing for just a little bit. It seemed like an entirely valid plan.

The water calmed after he eased his nude frame in and found comfortable position. His eyes fluttered shut as his body shook loose the tense shackles that the Upper East Side was maybe responsible. Sure, some of it was because of his slow but steady pace of becoming emotionally involved into surreal personal life of one Daniel Humphrey. Either way, it was almost out of character for him. He mentally decided to chalk it up to personal growth.

As his mind eased further into Memories of Green, his phone buzzed. Not opening his eyes and trying to be as still as possible, he grabbed the phone from the adjacent tile stand by the tub. His blue eyes fluttered open to read the text. Gossip Girl. Again.

_Well, well, Upper East Siders, it looks like Lonely Boy is just a little bit more smooth than we all give him credit for. Did you see the new accesory he's sporting?_

Damon quirked an eyebrow before opening the picture attached to the blast.

From there, his worlds collided rather awkwardly.

"Katherine." He said simply, his drawl coming back out. What was the world's hottest psychotic bitch doing with Dan? Much less playing personal shopper with him. Rolling his eyes, he was at least thrilled that no one knew who she was. However, he did want to know where she was staying. Swallowing a good deal of his Antebellum pride, he scrolled over to the 'contact and submit' section of the Gossip Girl website.

_To: Gossip Girl_

_From: SweetSouthernStud_

_Find out where that girl with Dan is staying, and I'll get you a name. Deal?_

Damon sat the phone down, wondering if any of this was worse than years of drinking blood. If it was, he didn't care, and if it wasn't, at least he had found a good use for this blathering idiot of a website. His found chimed back after a few minutes.

_To: SweetSouthernStud_

_From: Gossip Girl_

_Hotel Plaza Athenee. _

Damon smirked as he sat his phone back down. Normally tracking down Katherine Pierce was a lot harder, and bloodier. And again, the only reason he was even going to try and get near her was that she was near Dan. And, well, that wouldn't end well for anyone. Katherine would turn him into a probably literal chewtoy, and Dan would be too stubborn to leave. So, like so many other times in his long existence, Damon Salvatore was tasked with fixing a situation before it got any worse. He was plenty noble, but no one seemed to notice.

Though, even Katherine seemed saner than Blair Waldorf and Chuck Bass. That was bothersome.

Rising from the tub, he sighed as he dried himself off and found some nicer looking clothes. He still liked making a nice impression whenever he interacted with her. Color him self-destructive like that. He ran a hand through his hair, which had back to its more length and shaggy roots, and sighed. This was going to be probably painful. All his encounters with her never ended all that well.

Fetching his Camaro from the parking lot, Damon drove fairly swiftly towards the beyond ritzy hotel Katherine was staying at. He glared down the valet who thought he was going to touch his car. "My car stays right here." Damon ordered, compelling skills in full force. He entered the hotel and was a little impressed. Marble, massive amounts of flowers, elaborate paintings. He approached the front desk with that little smirk and eye trick of his already going.

"Hello, I need an extra key to the Presidential Suite," He casually asked and received it.

Spinning on his heels and making for the elevators, he tried, vainly, to rehearse in his head what he would say. He just hoped it would end well. Maybe both of them were finally capable of having an adult conversation. That'd be nice.

Nice went out the proverbial window as the elevator doors opened and he felt himself very roughly grabbed by the neck. This didn't bode well.

Damon quickly found himself pinned against a wall, hand around his throat.

"Well look who couldn't stay away," Katherine smirked, letting him go. Damon cleared his throat.

"So sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Katherine," He rolled his eyes, smoothing out his jacket. "That was an especially violent hello. Even for you."

"I was bored," Katherine shrugged.

"Of course you were," Damon said, faking a small laugh.

"What brings you so far uptown?" She asked. "Too much blood in the carpet in your room at the Essex House?"

Damon grumbled as he followed Katherine into her room. It put his to great shame. "I didn't come here for you, Katherine. I'm beyond that, remember?"

"That's a lie," Katherine chirped. "But I believe that you believe that."

"Clever. Also, leave Dan alone." Damon said evenly.

"I didn't hear a please in there, Damon." Katherine added.

"Because it wasn't a question," He retorted, earning a playful eyebrow raise from Katherine.

"Are you being dense again, sweetie?" She asked, turning around. "I don't want to pull your heart out, but..."

"Fine, fine," Damon said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Just...why him?"

Katherine laughed as she eased herself down into a a couch. "I like scouting your friends," she shrugged. "Also...you can't see it?"

"See what, Katherine?" Damon asked.

"He was born to be a Vampire."

Damon froze a little. Not because of her phrasing, but because she was right. And Damon knew it. "How long have you been here?"

"A week before you got here," She nodded, smirking. "Why? Miss me already?"

"Never," Damon spat, lying. "And you want to turn Dan? Dare I ask why?"

Katherine stood back up, going over to her purse and fishing out her autographed copy of _Inside_. "You read this, Damon. You're his friend. Tell me what he is isn't meant for something more. Something better. Humanity is a curse for him."

"Like it was for me?" He asked.

"You always bring that up," Katherine mockingly scrunched her nose. Damon didn't find it all that humorous.

"Do you really think that Dan will just go along with that?"

"He doesn't mind you. Especially after he stumbled on your little midnight massacre earlier. Compel him, I bet he's curious as to what we could offer him." Katherine slyly said, poking his chin.

"You mean being cursed?"

"He's a writer, Damon," Katherine almost laughed. "He'd leap at the chance to live as long as you and write about the complete world."

"Great," Damon rolled his eyes. "He can be Faulkner with fangs. Great plan, Katherine."

"Thank you," She said.

Damon sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was always difficult to argue with her considering she could quiter literally take his head off. "Just...promise me you won't turn him in a dark alley."

"I can promise you that," Katherine winked as Damon turned to leave. "See you at the Ball tonight, Damon. Promise not to get jealous if I dance with Dan?"


	15. Plot Points

Dan, proper attire in tow, returned to The Loft. Setting foot back in, even he had took note of the awkward ambiance that hung about his living quarters. Hanging the suitbag and shirt in the closet, he sighed. Damon was partly right, he had been an especially erudite bully earlier. But that didn't mean he didn't think Blair deserve some of it. All in all, it was a stressful little episode that would sound great in therapy.

Sighing, he decided he needed a break from all of it. The Manhattan Monarchy, the drama, all of it. Even if it was just for an hour or two before the big, glamarous gala later.

But now? Now was the time to lose himself in a game of pool. Now _that_ sounded like fun. He changed into more relaxed clothes, meaning flannel and jeans. Being suave was hard work, and he was thankful for the break.

He left The Loft smiling and with a slight pep in his step. With no press conference to be at or people to see, he could finally revert back to his almost-carefree manner. It was rare but it did exist. He caught a cab and made for Amsterdam Billiards, quite possibly his favorite hangout in the city. No one really knew it, but he was very good at the game of Pool. Good enough to hustle plenty of money from overly arrogant high school kids who were stupid enough to challenge him.

Entering the iconic and somewhat Art Deco designed building, Dan felt at home. No one here mentioned his book or anything else. He was just called 'Brooklyn' and they respected his game. He sat down at the bar with a smirk and before he could even order a drink was in front of him. "Who's this from?" Dan asked.

The bartender smirked. "Your next victim, Brooklyn." He pointed to an older teen sitting at the end of the bar.

"Geeze, he looks...twelve." Dan said, casually looking over. "How'd he get in?"

"She brought him," The bartender replied, pointing towards a Pool table being solo played by a drop-dead gorgeous and tan blonde.

"...Wow," was all Dan could muster. He wasn't used to girls like that in New York City. She was tan, in a flannel shirt with tight jeans and boots. It was quite a refreshing change from the mannequin like women he often saw. He smiled and took a sip of his drink. He heard the stool next to him scratch the floor as someone sat down.

"You seem really popular here."

"I am," Dan nodded, spinning on the stool to look at the kid who was 18 if he was a day. "I'm impressed they let you drink here."

"Money talks," The kid shrugged.

"True enough," He answered, extending his hand. "I'm Dan."

"I'm Jeremy,"

"Pleasure to meet you, Jeremy. You're not from around here." Dan joked.

"Nope. Mystic Falls, Virginia," Jeremy answered. Dan's eyes trained on him quickly. It would have meant nothing aside from Dan's brand new friend from Virginia.

"How about a free Pool lesson," Dan said a little loudly, aiming for some laughs from the regulars and patrons. Which he got.

"There can't be that much I can learn from you," Jeremy smiled back. The whole building seemed to go 'Oooh' and 'Aaah' at once, impressed by the cocky Southern youth. Dan raised an eyebrow and motioned for Jeremy to follow him.

The two set up shop at a table that was in the middle of the realm, so the crowds could gather and watch the artistry. This was high theatre.

"You break," Dan said, handing Jeremy a cue. Jeremy nodded, broke the center and effortlessly ran the table, not missing one shot. When he finished, Jeremy shot Dan a wink.

"Did I do good?" Jeremy asked.

"This time," Dan said, doing his own break and just as easily making every shot. The gauntlet was thrown down, so to speak. The two went game after game and break after break, neither missing a shot. It had gone from theatre to subtle combat fit for the Roman Coliseum. Dan had never been challenged like this, so this was a brave, new world.

The silent tension hit a peak when Dan was presented with a very difficult shot. The game was still friendly enough that Jeremy positioned himself next to Dan.

"You're friends with Damon Salvatore?" Jeremy asked as Dan positioned the cue behind his back and half-sat on the pool table. He sank the shot to much applause.

"I do," Dan nodded back.

"And Katherine Pierce?" Jeremy inquired.

"I know of her," Dan shrugged. "I'm guessing you know both?"

"Yep," Jeremy nodded, before looking around and smirking. "Call it. Last two shots, in a row."

The room fell silent. Dan studied Jeremy carefully as the younger man carefully measured the angle and then, like he promised, bounced the cue ball in such a manner that it knocked out the last two of Jeremy's targets. The crowds erupted in impressed cheers. Even Dan found himself clapping. The great exhibition ended with each the winner of 17 games, both proud of their upfront ties. The two found themselves back at the bar, equally impressed with the other.

"Did you sell your soul to make shots like that?" Dan asked of Jeremy.

"Nah, I just had a great teacher," Jeremy shrugged. "Can I ask how you met Damon?"

"Met him at a bar," Dan answered.

"And Katherine?"

"Met her shopping," Dan answered.

Jeremy laughed a little. "Put it together yet?"

"I know Damon is...different."

"So is Katherine," Said the younger Gilbert.

"...Huh," Dan said. "Are you?"

"Me? Human," Jeremy said.

"What about your chaperone over there?" Dan said, pointing to the tan beauty with the blonde and light brown hair.

Jeremy smirked as he whistled almost silently, but her head still shot up and she made her way over. "Jules, this is Dan. Dan meet Jules."

Dan stuck his hand out on reflex. She was even more gorgeous up close.

"Ugh, he smells like Vamp," Jules sighed.

"And what do _you_ smell like?" Dan asked.

"Wolf," Jules said back, the epitome of casual. Dan's eyebrows hit his hairline. Oh, good Lord. This was getting freaky.


	16. Story Arcs

The trio of the writer, the werewolf and the whisperer moved from the billiards hall to a diner across the street that Dan was fond of. He was amused that he could cross of both lunch with a Vampire and lunch with a Werewolf off his Bucket List.

Jeremy was off in the restroom when Dan and Jules plopped down at a booth.

"So, are you also hundreds of years old?" Dan asked.

Jules looked him over. "I'm 25, dumbass."

Dan blushed. "Sorry, you're my first Werewolf."

"Any more stupid questions and I'll be your last," She quirked off a half grin. "Got any smart questions?"

"What do Werewolves do for a living?" Dan asked.

"I'm a pro surfer," She shrugged. "You're the writer, right?"

"Sort of," Dan nodded. "And how'd you know?"

"Internet," Jeremy said, sitting down at the booth. "Your book is really popular outside of NYC, you know. I did a Google search, found Gossip Girl, then saw you with Damon."

"And?" Dan inquired.

"Just curious as to what Damon wants." Jeremy said.

Dan paused as he placed their orders. "He doesn't want anything. He's my friend."

This caused a bit of a paused quiet. The words 'Damon Salvatore' and 'friend' rarely appeared in the same thought, let alone sentence. "Friend?" Jeremy repeated.

Dan cocked an eyebrow with a smirk. He fetched his phone from his pocket and pulled up the photo gallery. Both Jules and Jeremy were observant enough to notice the pictures go from depressing still lifes and skyline shots to pictures of Dan and Damon. They didn't look cheesy or staged. They were genuine. One was of the two raven-haired figures at a book store, apparently in the Vampire fiction section. Picture after picture was strangely dorky.

The premier piece in the impromptu collection was the small collection of pictures of when Damon had stealthly crashed Dan's press conference. If Jeremy didn't know better, he could have sworn Damon looked...happy. It was a little weird. Normally, the elder Salvatore achieved happiness by performing less than savory tasks. The younger Gilbert was impressed that Damon would be happy around a human, a writer no less. "What about Katherine?" Jeremy asked.

"I met her when I was buying a tuxedo," Dan shrugged. "What about her?"

"She's kinda...evil." Jules said.

"Not evil, just very sneaky," Jeremy countered. Dan shifted his eyes between the two of them.

"Are you saying I should be worried?" The writer asked.

It was a valid question on its face, if only for the duality it set up. Obviously Katherine didn't view him as food, or else she would have drank him dry by now. Jeremy, a dyed in the wool veteran of her schemes, knew that Katherine was either on vacation or had something much more sinister in the works. It was one or the other.

"All she's done is help me pick out a tux and given me her phone number," Dan said. "And I gave her an autograph. Nothing weird happened." He explained.

"Are you sure?" Jeremy asked, trying to figure out if any compelling had happened.

"The only weird thing was a girl as gorgeous as her gave me her phone number," Dan shrugged. "That counted as odd."

The three actually shared a laugh over that. Dan's calm demeanor was able to assuage Jeremy's fears. Jules was still skeptical, but decently convinced Katherine was just having harmless fun. "So, tell me about Katherine." Dan asked.

"She's old," Jules chuckled.

"Really old," Jeremy added. "Like...500+"

Dan's eyebrows hit his hairline. He was impressed with himself, as normally even regular girls shot him. Dan was quite pleased to discover that he had caught the eye of beautious, 500 year old Vampire. "Wow, that's...like _Dracula_ territory."

"Please," Jeremy scoffed. "Dracula has nothing on that woman. She's something else."

Dan nodded as their food arrived. "So, Werewolf?"

"Yep," Jules nodded.

"Is that cool?" Dan asked.

"Well, the reflexes help me a lot," She shrugged. Dan nodded.

The rest of the lunch went well. Jules eventually found Dan's questions to be more charming than offensive and was happy to answer them. Dan, in turn, was happy to learn about werewolfes and how pleasantly/oddly normal they were. With handshakes and friendly winks, Dan was out the door of the dinner and heading back to The Loft. Feeling brave, he pulled out his phone and dialed. He held his breath as it rang.

"Well, hey there, handsome."

"Hello, Katherine," Dan blushed through the phone. "Can I be forward?"

"Such a gentleman, Daniel," She chuckled. "And yes, you may."

"There's this absolutely dreadful Gala or dance thing tonight, and I don't have a date," He casually said.

"Is there?" Katherine asked, amused as she twirled a curly lock around her finger. She just loved it when a guy was innocent and polite. Oh, it was like Damon all over again.

"There is," Dan answered. "And I think you'd have a lovely time."

"So do I," Said Katherine. "Formal and all that?"

"Tuxedos and ballgowns," Dan said. "I'll pick you up around six?"

"Sounds lovely. See you then, Daniel." Katherine purred. This was great. Normally, her playthings didn't come to her so willingly.


	17. Glossy

[[Sorry about the hiatus, writer's block + real life drama, but I am back now! Also, thanks to everyone who has stuck with this fic and all its ups and downs. It really does mean a lot to me Truly. Happy reading! XOXO- H.]]

Katherine rolled her lips into a smirk as she placed her phone down. She knew Dan had said ballgowns, and she had just the most wonderful idea possible. It wasn't an exact match to the stuffy Upper East Side standards, but it would be enough to put she and Dan on the front page of every tabloid, gossip and fashion magazine in New York City. For a second, she wasn't sure if she was going it for her, or the collective horror of the faces of the elites seeing little Labrador Dan Humphrey take the spotlight.

Either way, it was a fun proposal.

She slid open her closet door as she perused her dress collection. Katherine had been around long enough to know that the stick-up-their-ass crowds in Manhattan were a lot like Virginia in the 1860s, and Katherine had just loved to piss those people off. Her selection was a sleek and slightly shimmering black dress that stopped right at her knees. She eschewed the cliche hair in a bun and let her raven locks tumble freely to her shoulders. Oh, little Dan Humphrey would be in for quite the treat.

In Brooklyn, Dan was easing into his tuxedo and tie. He still felt dorky putting it on, but once completed even he had to admit he looked suave. He was a little impressed with himself. Before he could continue, his phone buzzed. He plucked it up quickly.

"Hello, Katherine," He said, smiling to himself.

"Good evening, Daniel," She answered, voice like black velvet over the phone. "In the tuxedo I picked out for you?"

"Of course," Dan said. "Though, glad you called, I have a question. I have Damon as my plus one. Is that okay?"

Oh, this was just perfect. The man she had never stopped loving and the human who was well on his way to worshipping her. Life was just wonderful sometimes, Katherine thought. They'd look great on her arms. "That's perfectly okay," She purred. "Now, I have a question for you."

"Go ahead," Dan laughed.

"That silly little website had some picture of you with one of my other friends," Katherine said. "Jeremy. Such a nice boy. What did he tell you?"

"That..." Dan trailed off before breathing himself steady. "That you're like Damon."

"Is that a problem?"

"No. Not for a second," Dan responded. It really wasn't. He was fascinated to know that creatures of the night existed.

"Good," Katherine said. "And Damon told me what that mean little girl did to you."

"...Blair?" Dan gulped.

"Yes, her. That's just pathetic," Katherine let out something resembling a whining purr. "Terrible. I'd be beyond flattered if someone wrote a book about me. Touched, even."

Dan nearly swallowed his tongue. Color that a great compliment. "I...uhm...uhh..."

"Cat got your tongue, Daniel?" She teased, giggling in a most adorable manner. She'd been at this long enough to know that the writer was probably melting on the other end of the phone. "Well, maybe you'll get that voice of yours back by the time we're waltzing about the dancefloor."

"Uh-huh," Dan almost babbled. Leave it to a female vampire that sounded like a kitten to get him back to believing in the wonder and majesty of girls again. "But, I'm guessing you're a better dancer than I am."

"Yes, probably," Katherine laughed. "Perk of quality aging gracefully."

"I'd imagine," Dan chuckled. "Another question?"

"Yes, Daniel?" She replied, smiling and charming.

"You and Damon are...what?" He asked.

"Complicated," Katherine said with a sigh. "I'll fill you in on that much later, okay?"

"Okay," Dan nodded. "Most important question. What kind of car am I to pick you up in?"

"Something sleek, but a little private. A Jaguar. Black. Big enough to fit three of us in the back. Enough hints?" Katherine teased.

"It is," Dan said. "I'm known to have good ideas."

"Your book showed me that," She said. "It was very well written. And I personally knew all those authors you admire so much. But anyways, I look forward to seeing you again, Daniel. Good-bye." Katherine purred into the phone before ending the call. She hadn't had that much fun in ages, largely because the male gender had really fallen off a cliff in the last hundred or so years.

Katherine eased herself down onto a chair and smirked smoothly. She had to admit, it was delighful. She had met Dan all of one time, and already he was wrapped around her little finger. It was just so wonderful. On a different, but still valid level, she was thrilled that Damon had finally saw fit to start making friends again. From her observances of their personalities, Damon and Dan were a perfect match. Dan was a bit like Stefan, just not with the brooding, martyr-prone stick up his ass. Dan, who was lost in the post-release sea of his novel, clearly needed Damon not just as a friend, but as a big brother. Damon, though he'd never admit it sober, probably viewed Dan as a friend and a gift, a chance to finally be the still-snarky but protective big brother. And, Katherine noted, Dan wouldn't push him away. If anything, the writer and the Vampire were good for each other.

Katherine couldn't help but think that Dan, no matter how stoic or passive-aggessive, belonged to the realm of Vampires. He had all the almost required fields. Never again would all his former friends truly accept him back, he'd forever be a stranger in his own city. It'd be a miserable existence for him if he stayed.

She was jerked from her thought-trance by her buzzing phone. It was a message from Damon, or rather a picture of him in his tuxedo. She replied back quickly.

_To: Damon_

_Still as gorgeous as the day I met you._

She smirked as she sat her phone back down, knowing this would please him even if he'd never admit it. Her phone buzzed again. She braced for the witty, caustic reply.

_From: Damon_

_Thanks, Katherine_._ XOXO._

Now that made her laugh. Almost giggle. Damn him for still having ample amounts of that 19th Century charm. Katherine nodded with a self-satisfied smirk. Yes, she liked her boys: One had never really left her, and the other would soon never want to.

Across the bridge, Dan nervously poked and prodded at his hair as Damon entered The Loft. The writer had an oddly high emotional investment in this evening. Maybe it was because it was his last true chance to worm his way back into his previous social circles.

"I'm sure you'll make a lovely tabloid photo," Damon teased.

"Same to you," Dan smirked back.

"So, when are we picking up Katherine?" The Vamp asked, a little curious in a morbid sort of way. He had overheard the ending part of the phone conversation.

"Depends," Dan said, turning to face Damon. "If we leave now, we get there early and miss all the cameras."

"But if we leave later, the three of us will be smack in the middle of all those cameras. And, my charm and good looks will rub off on you. Right, Danny Boy?"

"Something like that," Dan found himself laughing, shooting Damon a shy shrug.

The small talk continued as they sipped some wine, working to get themselves in proper gala mood. As soon as Dan had loosened up, Damon moved in front of him, eyes flaring on that compelling charm. "So, Dan, I have a question. Will you answer honestly?"

Dan nodded. "Of course, Damon. You're my friend." He smiled.

Damon smirked a little to himself, silently touched by display of affection. "Katherine told me that she thinks you would like to be a Vampire. Is this true?"

"Yes," Dan answered quickly, nodding to emphasize the point.

"Why?"

"Because then I'd be free. No one could ever threaten me with trivial things." Dan responded.

Damon broke the link and smirked slightly. "Per usual, you will not remember any of this...besides the part about you being my friend. Deal?"

"Deal," Dan nodded, immediatelty forgetting everything from the minutes previous. "Oh, so when do we leave? We have to get a car first."

"Already did," Damon nodded, taking a sip of wine. "Believe me, Danny Boy. Even without spying on her phonecalls, I know what Katherine thinks and what she wants."

"Ah," Dan said, quirking an eyebrow. "I need to write a book about you two."

"Maybe later," Damon laughed, rolling his eyes for comedic effect. "And you'd probably need to get her permission first. That would be the tough part."

The banter continued as they departed The Loft. Dan was impressed that a near perfect example of the car Katherine requested was waiting for them out front. Dan mentally made a note to remember that based upon patterns of behavior, facial expressions and word choice, Damon was still very much in love with Katherine.

The sleek black Jaguar, a 1995 XJ6, made its way across the Brooklyn Bridge and into Manhattan, the skyscrapers as imposing as they were glamorous and neon-laden.

"Thank you," Dan suddenly said.

"For?" Damon replied, cocking an eyebrow to balance out his smile.

"The simple fact you somehow wound up in my life," The writer said, looking out the window at the towering skyline. "At least now I don't lack for friendship or adventure."

"Like I said, Hump, I was tired of seeing you drink alone," Damon answered, winking.

In short order, the car was before the Hotel Plaza Athenee. Dan and Damon were out the doors and into the lobby. They didn't have to wait long as the main elevator doors opened and Katherine, in all her effortless charm and overt sexual nature, stepped forward. She smiled as both Dan and Damon's jaws dropped nearly to the floor.

"Don't my boys look dashing this evening?" She asked, smiling.

"You know me, Katherine," Damon said, finding himself grinning. "I've always tried to use my obnoxious good looks to impress you."

Dan coughed back a laugh. Katherine turned her attention to him.

"At least Daniel here is the epitome of polite. Aren't you?" She asked of him, raising a hand to pat at his cheek. Dan nodded obediently. It was Damon's turn to cough back a laugh. The two men guided her outside and into the car, luckily it was big enough for the three of them fit in the backseat. Within several blocks, Katherine had her arm around Dan's shoulder and a hand around Damon's chin. Even with such ministrations, they were not her toys, they were in face her boys.

The traffic slowed down as they approached Rockefeller Center. The ball was in the recently reopened Rainbow Room on the top floor. It would have been pretensious had it not been a very good idea. The trio did last minute adjustments of their hair, jewelry and ties before the car eased to a stop and the door was opened.

Damon got out first and immediately offered his hand to Katherine, which she took with a smile. To her credit, she stood pat and waited for Dan to join them. Once done, she offered her arms to both of them. That's when the photography really started. Dan could not remember a time when he had in range of, let alone the co-subject of, so many camera flashes.

"Smile, Daniel," Katherine purred into his ear. Every available example of Damon's smiles, Katherine's strategic hair and Dan's perfect tuxedo quickly stole the show from whoever else was there. And, on cue, Dan smiled. To him it was a wonderful change of pace from being the guy who had to get other people to let him into parties and galas.

The elevator ride to the top floor of the swanky building. Katherine couldn't help but emit a cute giggle. "Weren't we the big trio?"

"You expected anything less?" Damon drawled, smirking. From the corner of his eye, he almost expected Dan to be beyond nervous. But he wasn't. Little Brooklyn Dan looked almost relaxed. Damon couldn't help but feel like a very proud big brother.

The doors slid open to reveal the true scene. The orchestra, tables full of presents, mingling Upper East Side socialites.

"Oh, God. Someone gag me," Katherine sighed, again took her boys by the arms and led them out. "Smile, boys. We have a show to steal."


	18. Words

"It's like a musical...only frightening," Dan laughed, earning a giggle from Katherine.

"Booze. We need booze," Damon laughed, seeking out the bar as Dan and Katherine followed right behind. The whole ballroom was like some odd mix of _The Phantom Of The Opera_ and Mad Men. Dan was offended because it was so over the top, and Damon and Katherine were sickened because they had lived through the 1800s and couldn't remember it looking this awkward.

The three settled in at the bar and immediately moved to consume drinks. Katherine was poorly repressing her laughter at all the up-tight older guests.

"And you _want_e_d _to be part of this world, Daniel?" She asked, more than a little curious.

"It isn't always this bad," The writer replied. "The art and music is wonderful."

"Give me punk rock any day. Like when The Misfits played down the street back in... what was it, Damon, mid 80s?"

"Of course you were there," Damon chuckled, a little pleased that Katherine had been following him somewhat.

"Anyways," Dan laughed. "May I ask why you two saw fit to stylishly crash this visual disaster of a party?"

"Damon reasoned if you were left alone near Chuck and Blair you'd go all _Virginia Woolf_ again," Katherine said, face almost showing the emotion known as sympathy. "That would not be attractive in public."

"No, I suppose not," Dan nodded. "But would either of you blame me?"

"Nope," Damon smirked. "I hate most of your friends."

"They're hardly still my friends," Dan said. The minute those words left his mouth, he rather felt as though some sort of weight had been lifted from him. He had been so chained to the social dictums of the UES, he had forgotten what it was like to think for himself. His inner-Brooklyn had been beaten down for the sake of impressing Manhattan women.

The confession caused Damon and Katherine to drift into each other's gazes. Secretly, both were more than little proud to have gotten Dan back on a path that at least made him happy. Dan was merely happy to have intellectual equals to have again have stimulating conversations with. It was lost on him that a good portion of the room was stealing glances at the trio, not sure when Dan Humphrey had befriended two people who looked like they belonged on the silver screen. Everyone was secretly abuzz that, in terms of glitz and glamour, Dan had upgraded social circles. Even more intriguing was the fact that no one knew anything about his new compatriots. It was so... un-Humphrey like of him to run with such a mysterious crowd, yet still be a tabloid darling.

Their communal peace was broken by the click of approaching heels. "I see you still showed up," Blair said, eyes locking on Dan. "Along with your new friends."

"What can I say?" Damon interjected. "I wanted to see if he can make you cry again." He drawled out, earning a subtle but approving glance from Katherine. She had always liked it when Damon was able to balance polite and bitterly sarcastic at the same time. It was something Stefan had always lacked. Besides, it was far too much fun to poke with the stuffy upper classes. Besides, this bunch deserved it more than anyone else.

Blair arched an angry eyebrow. If it wasn't bad enough that Humphrey's new pals were so gorgeous and camera-friendly, it was compounded by the fact they were excellent verbal fencers. "And who is the girl you probably rented for the evening?" She asked.

Katherine let out a breezy laugh. "Oh, how cute. The midget mannequen thinks she's funny. Adorable," She tittered. "Besides, if I was a rented girl, that means your fiance would be pretty familiar with me, correct?"

Dan and Damon's eyes both went wide as they held back on their laughter. Moreso than Dan, Damon knew that it was never a good idea to start a verbal war with Katherine Pierce. It neved ended well for anyone. Dan, to his credit, made no effort to interfere with any of it. He was going to let the Vampires of Virginia make their own mark on the Upper East Side and its residents.

"Rude," Blair huffed. "I thought Southerners had charm."

"Well, we're not so rude as to invite an ex-boyfriend to a ball just to make him feel bad," Damon said, smirk playful but eyes rather mean. "Of course, you probably just do whatever your current fiance tells you to do. Talk about a strong woman..."

Dan supposed that things had just gone from Broadway skirmish to an unpleasant Central Park riot. Though, he did feel he was on the right side of matters. "Listen, we can trade verbal slashes all night or we can _try_ and enjoy this evening." He said, dutifully reprissing his role as peacemaker and keeper. It seemed to be a nice middle way.

Eye twitching, Blair casually turned and left the trio alone.

"She's a bitch," Katherine said, half-smirking.. "Trust me, I'm a bitch and I think she's a bitch."

"Good to know," Dan noted, shrugging just a little. He had to hold in a groan as he noticed the in-house orchestra tune up and start to play. "Watch this. The music will be great, but Chuck has two left feet on the dance floor."

Dan proved correct as Chuck subtly but repeatedly stepped on Blair's feet. Damon's snickers were audible. Katherine busied herself rolling her eyes and scouting out potential snacks. Dan, sickened enough by the sight of the dancing returned to the bar to get a drink or four. From their positions, Damon and Katherine exchanged looks.

"Wow, this is just...tasteless," Katherine sighed.

Damon nodded. "Yeah. I don't know what he ever saw in these people."

"Bright lights, nice cars, tall buildings, the whole...Noir-like world." Katherine sighed. "He's a Puppy, Damon. He got roped in by all the shiny things."

"It's ugly," He sighed.

"Very," Katherine nodded. "And wow, those two can't dance." She mixed a laugh and a groan, thankful when their sad excuse for a debut waltz ended. "Do you still like the idea of dancing with me, Damon?"

"I never stopped, you just left before I got any more chances." Damon casually replied, as, against his better judgment, let his hand rest on her shoulder. Katherine, completely in control, she raised one of her hands to rest it on top of his.

"I take it we're both thinking the same thing," Katherine said, voice near a whisper.

"We are," Damon said as he gave her hand a squeeze before casually striding over to the orchestra and using his little eye trick on the conductor. Musicians were always so weak-willed. He moved back to the empty dancefloor, shooting Katherine a smirk that nearly made her knees quake. Quickly she heard the violins and cellos start a decidely non-classical sound. She blushed, flattered he remembered one of her favorite songs. Her heels clicked as she met him at the center of the floor.

With expert ease, his right arm set above him with his left arm wrapping around her perfectly. He started moving and she followed his lead perfectly. It was probably because of their less than human control and strength, but the two must have looked like they were floating as they moved. Katherine couldn't help but whisper in his ear as they moved.

"Hungry Eyes?" She very nearly purred. "Have you been digging through my iPod?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Dan winked. Again, Katherine found herself blushing. By her memory, she hadn't truly blushed since the 1860s.

As the song progressed, the two were all genuine smiles, eager for the same good thing at the same time. A little after the song's halfway point, the signature saxophone solo hit in full force, and both of their faces lit up in small but beaming smiles. The two went from a reasonably quick-tempoed waltz to a beautfully chaotic quickstep. They moved across the entire floor feet sliding as both effortlessly handled difficult dance moves.

From his stool at the bar, Dan was all smiles and some laughter. At first he thought them showing off, but then he had realized Chuck and Blair had been trading gifts at a table as the center of attention, that was until Damon and Katherine took to their dancing and the entire room was focused on them. Dan had no words for how thankful he was. At their own party, there was not a single pair of eyes on the happy engaged couple, but rather on the abnormally graceful vampires.

Back on the floor, Damon and Katherine were busy showing off over 600 combined years of dance experience. They both knew the song was winding down.

"Big finish, okay?" Damon grinned. Katherine nodded as he pushed her weight onto the fronts of her feet and let him spin her as he simultaneously dipped her. The song ended with Damon on one knee and Katherine horizontally in his arms.

"Well done, Mr. Salvatore," Katherine said, face under control but her eyes bright and alive.

"Why, thank you," Damon winked. "Though, you owe Danny Boy a dance as well."


	19. Rhyme

With a less than chaste kiss to Katherine's lips, Damon departed the dance floor. He gave Dan a wink and a brotherly pat on the lower back before grabbing a drink and searching out on the opulent balconies with glorious views of the soaring Manhattan skyline.

With a practiced, but entirely effortless ease, Katherine made her way over to Dan's table and sat down with a very mischievious grin. "Enjoy the show?"

"Much so," Dan nodded. "There's far too little Waltzing to 80s music, in my opinion." He grinned off.

"I completely agree," Katherine nodded. "So, your dear friends Chuck and Blair are probably so furious they want Damon dead."

"I have the feeling Damon has survived far worse than the unholy Bass-Waldorf alliance," Dan snickered.

Katherine bit at her bottom lip a little. "The war being one." She sighed.

Dan cocked an eyebrow and tried to gauge what his next question should be. "He was in his early 20s during the war?"

"Yes, but...he was so much younger," Katherine smiled sadly. "To look at him now, you'd never imagine how sweet and playful he used to be. All smiles and winks. He was just so innocent."

Dan nodded, leaning back in his chair and sipped at his wine. "I can imagine how war and then...well, his transformation did for him."

"I certainly didn't help matters," She said. Dan picked up on her self-loathing instantly.

"Do you know what a great writer like me would say?" He asked.

"Color me curious, Dan," Katherine smiled.

"Barring a large splinter to the chest or the bite of Werewolf, you two will live on. Forever." Dan said, looking thoughtful. "You can't allow the 19th century to ruin you in 21st."

The elder Vamp sat pleasantly stunned. No one had even been that honest with her, or accurate. She couldn't help it when one of her hands drifted up to play childishly with her let-down hair. "Why do you care?" She suddenly asked, her voice showing hints of that gentle Bulgarian girl from so very long ago.

"For whatever reason, you and Damon appear to genuinely care about my well being. Damon beat up Chuck, you defended me from Blair. There aren't two other people in this city that would do that." Dan said simply.

"What can I say?" Katherine smiled as he rose from her chair and took one directly next to Dan. "You're worth it." She smiled, gently patting his cheek. "So, any more wisdom for Damon and I?"

"Love can often times be cold and broken, but it appears that you two just don't want to do anything more than find your ways back together and say 'Hallelujah'." Dan said, looking her in the eye.

Katherine nodded, touched by his words. She rose from her chair, her hands pulling him up by his. Dan found himself needlessly enthralled with her smile, which never seemed forced or put-on like make up.

"Tell me what you have planned, Katherine." Dan laughed as he followed her.

"Well, your friend Damon insisted I dance with you as well," She explained with a happy shrug. "We need to think of a song, don't you think?"

The two shared a small laughed as they bounced song ideas of each other, Damon sipped at yet another glass of bourbon as he felt himself mentally drift across over the Manhattans skyline. It was pretty in a steel and neon type of way. With a sniff of the air, he sadly knew his Zen had been breached. "You again?" He asked aloud.

Chuck harumphed and acted put off. "Yes, redneck, me again."

"How can I be a redneck if I'm richer and better-looking than you?" Damon asked as he turned around to see that Chuck had the company of two very large men with shaved heads and cheap suits. "How very... contrived."

"What is? That tux?" Chuck tried to counter.

"No, Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb there with you. I stopped being afraid of bullies a long time ago."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have learned so quickly," Chuck said, snapping his fingers as one of the large goons approached Damon.

Damon carefully placed his drink down and cracked his knuckles. He did miss boxing, after all. He also hoped Sage was proud of him, wherever she was at the moment. With a carefully graceful punch, the brute fell to the floor with a half-smashed face. As soon as the thunk of the falling body was heard, Damon vamp-speeded his way behind the second thug and effortlessly snapped his neck cleanly in half. With a playful smirk, the Vamp smoothed out his tuxedo as he nearly snickered. "That all?"

Chuck remained frozen in place, not really believing he'd seen what he'd just seen. He didn't think humans could move like that. Honestly, they couldn't. He remained speechless as Damon bore down upon him, blue eyes full of a masked anger. "What now? No more hitmen or pithy remarks? You gonna attack me with your ascot or hairgel? Huh?" Damon said, roughly pushing Chuck into the doorframe of the patio. The young billionaire visibly cowered.

"What are you?" He babbled out.

"Mad and tired of you," Damon growled, angry. "Color me territorial, if you can figure out what that means."

"Humphrey?" Chuck said.

"Yes, Dan," Damon corrected. "About that. you're going to leave him alone from now on."

"Why should I? He doesn't belong here. He's not one of us."

Somewhere in the back of his head, Damon heard the abusive, violent, often drunken and igorant voice of his father. It was disgusting in all forms. Hence he couldn't help but wrap an iron-hand around Chuck's throat. He squeezed hard, easily cutting off just enough air. "Do I have your attention, Basshole?"

Chuck nodded, struggling for breath.

"Here's the thing," Damon began. "I will give you two options. Either you and your bitch of a wife leave Dan alone, and you never see or hear from me again. We'll do a hand shake deal and I'll leave you both alone. Here's the other option: you and your bitch of wife can continue to torment Dan for no good reason, but if you do, this is what will happen. No matter how far you go with your hopes and dreams, you will spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder. You and Blair will never feel or be safe again. In fact, I can't even promise both of you will survive tonight. That's the deal. Take it or leave it."

Damon growled again as Chuck went pale from either lack of air or complete fear. No one had ever stood up to him, let alone threatened him with death. He nodded his response.

"Good," Damon said, relaxing his grip as Chuck crumpled to the floor. "Also, don't send any more ex-athletes after me. That's not really very effective. As you can see. Also, you better find a way to sneak out two dead bodies, lest people ask questions, you know." He said, giving a cold smirk as he departed the patio. A short elevator ride had him back into the ballroom. His face broke into a happy smile and matching laugh as he noticed Dan and Katherine, on the center of the dancefloor, doing some sort of perfectly choreographed Irish jig. It was totally out of place, but it worked in an odd way. That, and Damon had to give credit to Dan for bringing joy to Katherine's face for the second time that night.

Rather than the standard waltz, Katherine had demanded of Dan that they do something entirely more memorable. His 45% Irish heritage had enough cultural loyalty to know a few traditional dances. Especially a few that were equal parts charming and dorky.

Their heels and toes clicked in perfect time on the floor. Dan's excuse was dance classes, whereas Katherine had probably been around for the invention of these twirlings. Either way, it was a wonderful escape for Dan, plus a great way to flount the protocal of the UES establishment. Even after the song had come to an end and they had to left the floor, the two were still all laughs. Even Damon couldn't help but smirk a little.

"Careful, you two. You're liable to make the rest of the room really jealous." The male Vamp winked. "Now, we've made everyone jealous and pissed off Dan's ex and her pussy of a boyfriend. Can we please go?" He laughed.

Dan shrugged and nodded, content to know he had gone a long way in freeing himself of the shackles of the UES. That probably explained why the car ride back to Katherine's hotel wasn't so bad. The skyline seemed much less intimidating than it normally did. Maybe that was what freedom felt like, or maybe not having to act a certain way for certain people all the time. His mind bounced these thoughts around as he followed Damon and Katherine into her expansive hotel suite.

"Wait, don't I live in Brooklyn?" Dan asked aloud. Damon chuckled as he dropped into a chair and Katherine perched herself on the arm rest.

"Yep," Damon nodded. "Get a little lost there, Hump?"

Dan shrugged as he loosened his tie. "Big night, I guess." He smirked softly. It was more than clear his emotions had caught up with him in a big way. Damon knew that was an emotional necessity, but he also knew Dan did not need to be spending a night alone at The Loft. Honestly, he didn't need to spend another night alone again. Ever. "Yeah, I'm gonna head back home. Thanks, you two. I mean it."

As he turned to go to the door, Damon was in front of him. Dan still hadn't adjusted to their over-the-top speed. Before he could even choke out a breath, he felt Damon's hands against his chest.

"Oh, Hump. I don't think Katherine and I have given you a memorable enough night just yet."


	20. Overlap

Dan swallowed a gulp of suddenly cold air. Damon was close enough to him that all Dan had to do was inhale and his nose was full of the Vamp's scent. It was a very pleasing mix of smokey and Pine Tree. Like an especially well-placed forest. It was so much more appealing than the normal smells of smog and snobbery. Plus, there was just a lot of bad cologne and perfume around. Mentally, Dan wondered why he never noticed that Damon smelled so good.

"Damon?" Dan gulped again, not sure of what was going on. Well, he was sort of sure about what was going on, but his brain wasn't exactly high-functioning at the moment.

"Yes, Danny Boy?" Damon out and out purred, his blue eyes somehow even more piercing than before. Hypnotic wasn't even the word for them. They were deep, wise and, oddly enough, entirely kind. "Do you have a question?" He said slowly, fingertips ghosting against the writer's chin.

"I think he's a little shocked, Damon," Katherine said, suddenly behind the nervous writer. Quickly enough, one of her hands was feelings its way across the middle part of his chest. She could feel how deep his breathing was. More than that, she could practically smell and taste the blood that was going through his system. Much like his nature and personality, Dan's blood just smelled entirely too sweet. It was all she could do to keep from digging her fangs into him on the spot.

Dan himself was a mix of trembling and stiffness. On the one hand, his mind couldn't keep up with the events of the situation. But, on the other, two gorgeous and amazing people were throwing themselves at him. On top of that, Dan had the feeling that Damon and Katherine weren't in this for some cheap, one-night fling. If he was being honest with himself, he could feel the unmistakeable aroma of genuine attraction. "Why?" He breathed out softly.

"Because, Hump, you deserve so much better than the hand you've been dealt," The accurate words were basically bouncing off of Dan's lips because Damon's mouth was so arousingly close. If he wanted to snag a kiss, Dan probably wouldn't even have had to lean forward. All in all, it was a bit of a very undue delight. His mind told him if things kept happening the way they looked, this would end with the three of them wrapped up in nude in very expensive sheets. The last time he had partook of this particular pleasure, it had been speedy, forced and done so because of a needlessly immature scavenger hunt.

This? This was different. Dan was completely trusting of these two, probably because they were too powerful to care. They were immortal beings of near-infinite powers, yet they saw something attractive and engrossing in him. Before he could open his mouth to even ask a question, he felt air whoosh past his ears and his back collide with the soft confines of the bed. A barely audible 'oof' escaped his mouth as he mind tried vainly to play catch up. Though, on a very primal level, Dan didn't care. He heard a slight creak of the mattress as Damon and Katherine sat down around him. Before he could blink, he felt Katherine's fingers toy and comb through his hair. It had been months since he had been touched in an intimate way.

"Oh, Daniel," Katherine said, leaning down to ghost a kiss across his lips. He was taken aback by how cold she was. It wasn't a turn-off or repellent, it was just a little surprising. "I think you need the best that Damon and I can give you. How does that sound?"

Dan, still pleasantly mute, nodded a littler eagerly.

"You're a lucky boy, Hump," Damon said. He had literally just appeared on the bed next to him. "You'd be surprised at the tricks Katherine and I know. I've got some moves that will blow your mind. And Katherine will probably be busy blowing other things," He smirked. Katherine nodded, her smile playful.

"Is this for real?" Dan gulped, finally able to find and use words. "I mean, why?"

"Why?" Damon repeared, looking thoughtful. "That's a good question. I suppose we could chalk it up to the fact we're both pretty into you." The Vamp said. Katherine nodded in agreement. "Shouldn't that be enough of a win for you?"

Dan thought this through somewhat quickly, nearly instantly agreeing with Damon's velvet words. "Nothing else?"

It was Katherine's turn to lean in with a smirk. "Because you're deserving of a real love story, baby,"

And that did it. Whatever emotional walls were still around his entirely too battered heart crumbled down. Maybe it showed on his face as a sort of cathartic release, but Damon picked up on it quickly. The Vamp's deceptively soft lips were soon pressing against Dan's chin, tongue darting out and almost causing the writer to titter. It wasn't his fault Damon could read Dan like a book.

Before he could utter something clever and apropos, his clothes practically flew of, ending up on the floor. His sudden near-nudity was a little surprising and a lot arousing. The rush of vamp-powered wind around him was enough to nearly give him chills, and not entirely because of the temperature change. He sat up just a little to take in Katherine removing her dress and Damon shedding his tux. He never knew he was _this_ lucky, or that it was possible to be _this_ lucky.

As soon as the Vamps had removed and discarded their clothes, they were back in the bed and surrounding Dan. One of Katherine's hands was quickly running a flat-palm up and down Dan's chest. There was something so intoxicating about the Labrador-like writer, his tragic sense of charm and a whole host of other things. It was like Damon circa 1864, only this time she could help him avoid all that damage. She had been gived a do-over, and Katherine fully intended to make the most of it.

From the other side, Damon was smirking kisses against Dan's shoulder. Oddly enough, he felt no desire to bring his fangs out. This was a rolling moment of intimacy, not hunger or lust. Dan, even on his skin, tasted good. Damon smiled as Dan was rolled onto his side to face Katherine. Smiling ever so slightly, the male Vamp slowly worked of Dan's boxers down and off. He couldn't help it if he wanted to be the first to get across this rubicon with Dan.

"Damon?" Dan mumbled inbetween his long, tongue-filled kisses with Katherine.

"Relax, Hump," Damon growled softly into Dan's ear. "Just trying to get you a little more comfortable is all." He explained. Dan nodded before Katherine re-demanded his attention.

Even though is so-far just kissing, Dan could barely keep up. He knew she was older and more experienced, but still, he was at the mercy of her very killed tongue. He moaned and groaned into her mouth with every other breath. That, and her hands were all over his chest. It was all too much.

Well, that was before Katherine shed her panties and guided Dan into her. Then it was a whole new ballgame. While Dan let out a full-throated moan, Katherine simply emitted a pleased little giggle.

As if he wasn't all the way over-stimulated, Dan felt one of Damon's hands caress his, well, his butt. If the writer had been paying attention behind him, he would have noticed Damon located a bottle of lotion and had coated two of his fingers. Two fingers that soon found a certain entrance. Dan tensed, then quickly found himself relaxing against the intrusion. He let out a breath as Damon removed his fingers and then inserted something else.

As soon as Dan became fully engulfed and taken by both Damon and Katherine, he couldn't shake a certain feeling. It was a feeling he had never felt when sharing such intimacy, much less in a threesome.

He felt like he belonged. Belonged between Damon and Katherine, surrounded in a veritable symphony of passion. Their movements were shared and almost planned. Though he technically didn't have any power in the situation, he felt as though his pleasure was of the greatest concern. That was a concept that had never been presented to him with anyone else.

His inner-writer wanted to take notes and memorize all the feelings that he was going through, but he simply couldn't. He was awash in a sea of pure carnal delights. With Katherine in front and Damon literally bringing up the rear, he couldn't even make himself think.

Their intime motions continued until Damon found his release, filling Dan with warm liquid that was in sharp contrast to his cold skin. From their, Dan and Katherine fell off the pleasure cliff together, leaving the three of them panting, non-sensical messes. Hands were quickly going through hair as the three bodies aimed to get comfortable. They fell asleep in a mess of intertwined arms and legs, smiles were the common denominator.


	21. Verse

Katherine, somewhat in her trademark sneaky fashion, was out of the bed, into her clothes and out the door in search of breakfast. She liked the Fall air outside and reasoned that her boys neede some alone time for themselves and whatever manner of exploration that would entail.

Back in the bed, still under the sheets in fact, Dan happily snored and drooled a little against a pillow. His mess of hair covering one side of his face. Damon, recently awake, eyed the writer with a smirk. He'd be lying to himself if his little ride on Dan hadn't been some of the most satisfying intimacy he'd had in a century. He let out a pleased sigh, proud of the pleasure he had given the healing writer. It was certainly very polite of Katherine to leave him alone with his new flame, if only for a morning. Oddly enough, Damon was still a little surprised that Katherine was so willing to share. Though, he suspected that even Katherine Pierce knew that Dan was such a jewel he just had to be experienced by the both of them.

The Vamp kept his smirk in place as he gently ghosted his fingers on the top of Dan's hair. It was so oddly soft for something so jumbled looking. Damon had figured out that, despite appearances, Dan was somewhat less than organized. It was a charming quirk, especially since Damon was a closet neat-freak. Feeling either Damon's fingertips or his internal desires against his hair, Dan slowly yawned himself awake.

"Mornin'," Damon drawled softly, misleadlingly softly for a guy with his reputation.

"Hey," Dan said, quite groggy and more than a little worn out. His rear end was, of course, sore from the very special treatment Damon had given him. If he was being honest with himself, he still had a little bit of trouble, and a few giggles, admitting to himself that he had let Damon do that. Of course, it had felt amazing in every sense of the word all the while Damon was exposing him to pleasures he never thought possible. Calling the night 'memorable' might not have been the right phrasing, but it was close.

Before the writer could mutter another sleep-garbled syllable, Damon's lips were pressed against his. Still sleepy or not, Dan immediately found his lips kissing back. There was something so tasty and oddly enticing about the Vamp's mouth. Through his years in the UES and summers in the Hampton's, Dan had kissed plenty of girls, but none had this same instant appeal as Damon Salvatore. Maybe it was because the charming Southerner was so pleasantly forceful when it came to making his feelings well known.

What surprised Dan the most was the fact that Damon, despite his openly and overtly sexual nature, was an amazingly gentle and almost nurturing kisser. Nothing was rushed or sloppy. It was, in fact, like kissing someone who was over a hundred years old. A part of Dan's brain, or maybe his heart, decided that he could certainly get used to treatment like this. It was certianly preferable to other relationships he'd had. Dan caught himself laughing as he felt Damon smirk before he pulled back.

"There," said the Vamp. "Now you can't say I've never given you a nice present."

"Guess I can't," Dan chuckled, a slight blush hitting his cheeks. "So...last night was?"

"Amazing," Damon answered quickly, eyebrows dancing as his impossibly blue eyes caused Dan to blush even further. "I'm pretty sure you've never had better sex in your life. Actually, I'm quite certain."

Dan chuckled as he sat up, his butt giving him a dull reminder of Damon's actions the night before. "No, I didn't mean a descriptor. I meant that I didn't know if last night was some sort of once in millions years or once in a life time type of thing."

"Of course not," Damon said, rolling his eyes a little. "I make it a habit to not throw away things I actually like, Danny Boy."

"This from the guy who told me he doesn't do hugging?" Dan said, as he yawned again, his wavy mane bouncing in the slightest.

"Stop acting like a writer all the time, Hump," Damon laughed a little, pulling almost into his lap. "There is no reason for you to be moody after what Katherine and I gave you last night."

Dan nodded, actually feeling like a whole person and not something disposable. "Speaking of Katherine, where is she?"

"Getting breakfast," Damon said. "She does not cook. At all."

"Was last night her idea or yours?" Dan asked, a little curious.

"It was mutual," Damon smirked. "Katherine and I decided we couldn't contain ourselves any longer. You're like catnip for Vampires, Hump."

Dan took that as a compliment as he smiled to himself. "Bad time to say this is so going to be the subject of my next story?"

Damon laughed as he leaned back into the bed, pulling Dan with him. "Just change the names and you're fine." He said, faking an overdramatic sigh. "You better make it smutty."

"After what happened last night?" Dan responded, quirking an eyebrow. "That's a given. For the sake of writing, was I your first guy?"

"First guy in a while," Damon nodded. "Yes, Hump, that makes you special."

"Special, huh?" Dan smiled. "Always nice to hear. And I'm free of bite marks. Which is a little surprising, I guess."

Damon's mouth quirked into a one-sided grin. "Feeding can either be simple or amazingly complicated."

"What makes the difference?" Dan asked.

"A lot of things," Damon drawled. "Hunger, timing, proximity. Or, on the complex end, attraction, arousal, lust, longing, desire."

Dan gulped a little. Not many people used words like that to describe feelings towards him. It was refreshing and a little turbulent. "If that's the case, then I'd like for you to, you know...have a taste."

"Do you promise not to panic?" Damon asked as his fangs slid out, his veins following after. Dan, to his credit, remained totally calm. He nodded yes.

No sooner had the nod been finished than Damon had eased into Dan's neck. He let out a moan at how sinfully sweet Dan tasted. He tasted of pure, unadulterated innocence. It was a little overpowering, causing Damon to force himself not to drink too fast. On the other end, Dan was in the throws of something that should have hurt like Hell but really didn't. Sure, it stung a little, but the sting was quickly replaced by sparks of lust and mutual desire. Looking back on it, Dan had fallen hard for the Vamp the second he had seen him. It was hard not to. He let out a soft whimper as he felt Damon remove his fangs and pull back.

The veins were gone but blood was still present all around most of Damon's mouth. Dan paused a little before smiling ever so slightly, observing the face that was flush with contentment and arousal.

"Beautiful," was all the writer said.


	22. Chapters

Damon, still on something of a learning curve, only nodded as Dan kept talking without taking a breath. He was moderatly impressed by the action, or maybe he was just distracted by how charming Dan was when he was in full-on literary adoration mode. The vamp supposed that Dan felt necessary to be in novelist mode at all times, in case something worthy of recording in font happened. This, of course, was after the young human had had a threesome with two people needed blood to live.

"No, Danny Boy, Tennesse Williams was not a better writer than Faulkner," Damon shook his head with a slight eye roll.

"You specialize in eating people, what do you know about books?" Dan asked, grinning.

"Really? Can't figure out I'm college educated several times over?" The Vamp bragged, eyebrows waggling.

"Oh, really?" Dan asked, himself decently close to graduating from NYU. "From what and with what?"

"University of Virginia, Bachelor's in History, then a Master's in Southern Literature." Damon shrugged a little happily. "And no, I can't really remember when. Sorry." He winked.

"Did you drain any professors?" Dan asked, a little curious.

"Good Lord, Hump, I do more than just Vamp out on people," Damon insisted, laughing despite himself. "I may not be as lofty as you."

"I'm lofty?" the writer repeated, amused.

"Yeah," Damon nodded. "Sure you're all flannel shirts and pleasantly goofy hair, but it isn't hard to tell that you've got some big dreams, Hump."

Dan was impressed, so much so that he blushed just a little. Inwardly, he admitted that he was often taken in by Damon's looks and entirely hypnotic accent, but that was probably selling the Vamp short. He was quite deep. "So what if I'm just a little ambitious?" He asked back, smirking.

"It's a turn-on," Damon winked, rising from the bed while still totally in the nude. Dan blushed immediately. Damon's body, while looking straight out of a fashion magazine, was still somehow very real and had a welcoming aura about it. Before either could fire off another quip, the door to the hotel room opened and in stepped Katherine.

"Hello, boys," She said in a purr, one of her hands clamping down on severl bags of what appeared to be fastfood breakfasts and doughnuts. She nearly laughed when she saw a clearly pleasured Dan still sitting in bed and a nude Damon cockily prancing around. "Did I interrupt Round Two?"

"No," Dan said, smirking his way through a playful roll of his eyes. "Damon just feels he doesn't need underwear."

"You aren't complaining," Damon countered, causing Katherine to chuckle a bit. She sat the food down before speeding her way to the bed and quickly pinning Dan down.

"I don't think you'd complain about anything we'd do," Katherine said, loving the slightly spooked but entirely aroused look in Dan's eyes. Damon, still completely in the nude, smirked and slinked his way into one of the other rooms so Katherine and Dan could have a modicum of privacy.

Still looking up at the seemingly always grinning face that was always surrounded by soft, shining coils of raven hair that seemed to live in its own effortless reality, Dan found his lips pressing into a very thin smirk. Essentially every girl he knew in the UES used sex as a weapon and the power that went with it as a sort of heavy-handed check and balance over a man's behavior. What was so refreshing, and almost frightening in a foreign way, was how Katherine seemed to enjoy intimacy and affection for its own sake. He reasoned that yes, she probably used it to get what she wanted from some people in some situations, but now, that was not his feeling. After all, he, a mere mortal writer, was already privy to some of her more macabre secrets.

Though, Dan thought as Katherine's finger tips toyed with his just grown back chest hair, Katherine was simply more pleasureable to be around than most, if not all, other women. It was weird that he had found a woman, or probably vice-verse, that there existed a woman in NYC who didn't care that he lived in Brooklyn. To him it was something of a treat mixed with many the answers to many late night and not always sober prayers.

"You think too much," Katherine quietly whispered intho his ear. "Is that a writer thing?"

"Never dated a writer?" Dan asked back, his palms pressed gently to her lower back.

"Well, a few famous ones have hit on me over the years," Katherine shrugged, her body language almost akin to that of everyone's beloved girl-next-door. "But, well, you're so much better looking than most writers."

"Is that a compliment?" Dan asked.

"Stop overthinking things, Daniel," Katherine teasingly warned, fingers scratching gently at his chin.

"Not possible," the writer shrugged. "Besides, what fun would I be if I did?"

It was a valid question since a good deal of Dan's charm came from his slightly neurotic and overly analytical nature. Neithet Katherine or Damon understood it, but they didn't dare it question it. Even Vampires had to respect some less than natural occurences. She tried to keep her voice soft, if not sweet, while working her way to more sensitive questions she had for him. "I happen to think you're plenty of fun, Dan," she purred, nipping at his jaw-line. "So much so I'm surprised you've stuck around here."

"Here meaning New York City?" Dan asked, blushing at her affections.

"Why stay here?" She asked again in the form of a near-whisper.

"It's home," Dan sighed, a hand going through her hair. That slightly shining raven hair.

"You've never wanted to see what rest of the world has to offer?" Katherine asked.

Dan thought long and hard over the question as his hands continued to happily and lightly rake through her hair. It wasn't his fault that she was utterly hypnotic to his every sense. He tried to focus on the question even as Katherine kissed and teasingly, almost playfully, bit and nipped as well. "What do you think your world has to offer me?"

Katherine responded by more or less straddling Dan's lower chest with an all-knowing grin. "I'm positive that it's full of endless nights of passion and power. All the things you've ever wanted and deserved out of life," she hummed out, fingernails tracing at his sides. Even more so than normal. she could hear, smell and almost feel his blood going through his veins. Blood that she felt she was more than a little entitled to after giving him a true taste of Heaven the night before.

Slowly, her fangs slid out as Dan found himself relaxing deeper into the bed. He was entirely too fascinated with that aspect of Vampirism, but he reasoned he was allowed to be given the two new lovers in his life. He crained the unbitten side of his neck as an offering to her. "Damon already fed on me a little," Dan said, voice barely above a whisper.

"I know," Katherine smirked. "Don't worry your curly little head. I'm capable of much more restraint than that walking pair of blue eyes," She said, voice somehow a purr despite her somewhat menacing nature. She used to fingers to find a softer spot on his neck, a spot that would prove easy for her fangs to pleasure him with. After all, Katherine knew, if the subject of the feeding was agreeable to it, the process was little short of intimacy. "Though, Damon has already had a decent fill, so I'll have to sample you a little later."

Dan almost groaned as he rested his head back onto the pillow. "Is this like swimming? I have to have like a 30 minute break?" He asked, smiling up innocently at the ceiling.

"You're making me sound like I'm some sort of strict schoolteacher, Dan," Katherine said, leaning forward to flick his nose. "Oh, but let me guess. Straight-A student for life you probably has that fantasy all the time, and probably in all the wrong places."

"You can't prove that," Dan said, trying keep a modicum of pride.

"Don't make me compel you, Danny Boy," She grinned back, not entirely joking. "Is that an often had fantasy?"

"Not in the normal way," He replied, laughing out a sigh. "None of this Cougar stuff anymore, really. Too cliche, and a little creepy. I guess it's more of a...sleeping with the TA or got their PhD really young type of college professor."

"At least you're original," Katherine chimed. "Even if those in academia tend to not be the best looking."

"Ouch, how mean," Dan said, stretching just a little. "What if I said I wanted to be a Professor?"

"I'd have to slap some sense into that messy head of yours," she replied, rising from the bed and effortlessly pulling him with her. Dan was still adjusting to the fact that these two Vamps were able to move him about as if he weighed no more than a single piece of paper. "Is breakfast fine?" She asked. Dan nodded. A short curling and movement of her finger beckoned him to follow her, which of course he did.

Damon was waiting for them at a table with a pristine view of the winter morning. He looked up with a smirk before eyeing Katherine.

"Let me guess." he drawled. "He's already in love with you."

"Well, of course," Katherine said, grinning.


End file.
